The New Pet 2: Heart of the Lion
by Blueroan
Summary: The continuing adventure of Sarah, the newest member of the Cullen family. Still 'blind' but now a vampire with awsome gifts, she faces new challanges and new danger.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:**I don't own Twilight!

As promised, Part 2. I only hope I can continue to keep up the standard I set in the first one. Enjoy!

**The New Pet 2: Heart of the Lion**

**Prologue**

The gray clad Watcher kept a careful distance. The newborn in the lot below had remarkable gifts. Though he would have to be practically on top of her before her radar would detect him, he didn't want to take any chances. His own gift was a cloak that kept others of his kind from sensing his presence. This young one was quite different and that worried him.

He was under strict orders to observe only. In the gravel lot behind the gas station, a male, a female and the newborn loaded the remains of Mikhail and his associate into the trunk of a waiting car. He recognized the older two, who wouldn't after their disastrous encounter with Carlisle and his coven several years ago. The Masters were still stewing over that one.

The Watcher had been following the Cullen family for a little over a week now, ever since they arrived in Louisiana and became the object of a perverse infatuation for his original target.

The Masters dispatched him to the cursed swamp after a rather gruesome crime made the local news. Ordinarily murders among humans were of little interest to him or those he served. As a species, the human animal preyed upon itself more often and more violently than his kind ever had. There was only one exception to this rule and he was the very reason for the Watcher's transatlantic trip. Cane.

The Masters wanted to be absolutely sure Cane was responsible for the highly publicized crime. It fit his pattern, the monster left a bloody mess everywhere he went. Rule number one of being a vampire; don't draw attention. Cane reveled in gory attention and, because of this, the Guard had a standing order of execution for him.

The Watcher's job was to secure proof of Cane's involvement so that his fellow members of the Guard could act. They dogged him across every continent and several centuries only to come up empty handed at every turn. The monster's nickname among the Guard was _The Dark Phantom_. No one dared utter the moniker in front of the Masters, not if they wished to live anyway.

To his personal amusement and the Masters' collective disgust, Carlisle and his coven had accomplished what the Guard, over the centuries, could not. They destroyed Cane and, in the process, added a most unusual newborn to their ranks. It was the newborn, a female called Sarah that the Masters had him watching now. They were most intrigued by his reports concerning her and her special talents.

He smiled as he watched Carlisle help the girl into the back seat of the car. The Masters would soon get another very interesting field report. Her power seemed to increase every time she used it.

Obviously, the Masters had designs on the girl and with good reason.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** I don't own Twilight!

Chapter 1

**Young Lioness**

Sarah sat crouched in the waist high grass fifty yards down wind from a grazing female elk. Doc and Esme were watching her stalk from the safety of the trees. She wanted to use her favorite ambush technique but Doc insisted that she learn other ways of hunting. The high grass and open meadows in this part of Yellowstone offered a perfect place for her to practice.

The first scent that caught her interest turned out to be a bison cow. It smelled absolutely mouth watering and she was very disappointed when Doc directed her to find something smaller. Even with his vast experience, he hesitated at the prospect of tackling such a large animal.

The wind stirred and the image of the elk blazed against the black velvet. Her head was down and she was oblivious to Sarah's approach. She stalked a little closer and stopped when the breeze that gave life to the illumination in her mind went still. She was quite close now. The scent of the animal had her mouth watering with venom and her throat burned. She was having a hard time maintaining her control and her concentration at the same time.

"Patience Sarah." she heard Doc whisper, only she would have heard him at that distance. "Your almost there."

The wind picked up again filling the vision of her mind with the glowing image of her pray. Her wafer thin control gave way; she couldn't take the stalking game anymore. While the vision still burned brightly before her she coiled like a spring and launched herself at the unsuspecting elk. She landed astride the animal, gripping the barrel of its body with her legs and wrapping her arms around its neck. Just before the wind died she caught the blazing image of the animal turning its head to look at her with one eye. She didn't know who was more surprised.

The elk bolted, running across the open meadow. Sarah found herself laughing with delight. Thoughts of the hunt evaporated, replaced with memories of horseback ridding with her grand-père . She gripped with her knees just as he taught her too and gave the elk a little kick sending her into another gear. She couldn't help the whoop of delight as she turn the animal to the left with only the pressure of her arm against its neck. _Pecos_ _Bill_ had nothing on Sarah.

Soon the elk grew tired of her unwanted rider and decided to give bucking a try. Now this was rodeo Sarah though as she clung to the animal's back and neck. She stayed with it until the elk became exhausted and finally came to a complete stop. The beast's heart was thundering in its chest and its sides heaved as it tried to catch its breath. Sarah sat up straight and took a deep breath of her own before slipping from the elk's back. The wind stirred once more and the animal's image blazed again before her vision. She gave it an affectionate pat of thanks before walking away.

After such a thrilling encounter, Sarah couldn't bring herself to kill the poor animal. She supposed it stemmed from the native beliefs her Uncle Hezekiah taught her. Hezekiah Fisher was her mother's half-brother by their father's first wife. He was half Choctaw. She spent a month with him every summer when she was a child. It was on one of those sultry summer evenings shortly after her accident that Hezekiah first introduce her to the lion that lived with in her. Lion, according to her uncle, was her guardian spirit.

"That's if you believed such." She mumbled to herself. In answer, the lion growled deep inside her.

Live another day pretty one, she thought to herself as she made her way back to the trees. Already she could hear Doc's frustrated whispers. A lecture was in order Sarah mused and she sighed as she steeled herself to hear it.

* * * *

Carlisle watched the beauty of the pre dawn sky as he pumped gas, it all awash in shades of lavender and periwinkle. There were no clouds and, according to the weather report, it was supposed to be clear and sunny.

Their three-day visit to Yellowstone was very successful in spite of Sarah's antics on the first day. She possessed a certain playful innocents that came out in almost everything she did, hunting was no exception. Thought he scolded her for nearly scaring the poor elk half to death and then not taking the kill, he found it difficult to stay angry with her for very long. Eventually she settled down and made several fruitful hunts. Her unusual _sound vision _was a useful asset but, because she hadn't explored the gift fully, it had some serious limitations. He suspected once she had full mastery of it, that gift would prove very potent.

Ideally, at her tender age, she should hunt daily but the three-day excursion was their first real opportunity to meet their needs since leaving Louisiana. Even he found the thirst nearly unbearably by the time they stopped. Still, Sarah exhibited extraordinary control and managed to maintain her bubbly good nature in spite of her discomfort.

He wondered how much of her control had to do with her base personality. Over the years the subject of personality transition across the transformation process became a topic that interested him. His theory was that an individual's base human personality remained the same when they became a vampire. Both Sarah and Cane were a prime examples. In Carlisle's mind, Cane was a monster as a human before he became a monster vampire. Sarah on the other hand had the character traits of patients, kindness, good humor, tolerance, and wisdom before she was bitten and she carried these into her new life.

"Doc."

He smiled as he watched her poke her head out of the back widow. "We'll be back on the road again in a few minuets honey."

Stops, for whatever reason, tended to make her nervous. He suspected she feared loosing control and hurting someone.

"Where's Esme?"

He noted her expression and the edge in her voice. It wasn't terribly unusual for her to sound a little anxious when Esme was away; their mother/daughter bond was quiet strong. He attributed this, at least in part, to the fact that Sarah lost her own natural mother at such an early age.

"She went for a walk honey, she'll be right back." He told her as he removed the fueling nozzle from the tank and replaced the gas cap.

"No." She was shaking her head vehemently. "Where is Esme?"

Her reaction now had him on edge. "What's wrong Sarah, what do you sense?"

"Red Dragons!"

She still used the term from the allegory as her privet code word for traditional vampires. "Where are they and how many?"

Before she could answer her head snapped in the direction of the far corner of the gas station. What ever noise her super sensitive ears picked up had her panicked and she was trying her best to scramble from the car.

He held the door closed to stop her. Her wild-eyed expression bothered him but he had to settle her before her go looking for Esme. "Listen to me Sarah. Stay here in the car, do you understand?"

"They're after Esme." It was the closest thing to a growl he had ever heard from her. Power and intent radiated from her trembling body.

"I know that but I can't afford having to rescue the both of you." He held the door tightly shut as he allowed his voice to drop into it's deepest octave and he gathered his concentration.

"Stay put Sarah!" He commanded.

The power of his binding words still vibrated on the air as he watched her retreat back into the car. There were many things including the power of his authority as leader of their family, that she really didn't understand yet. The voice of command was a part of his authority, a powerful gift that Carlisle seldom used. He preferred not to steal the will of those he loved but he had no time for Sarah's unpredictability. Though she wouldn't understand why, she would obey his order with out question.

Secure in the knowledge Sarah would remain in the car until he released the command, Carlisle turned and strode toward the corner of the gas station. He entered the little ally as quietly as a stalking tiger and focused his hunting senses. A deep breath brought a whirlwind of scent into his nose. Esme had come this way, along with two others. At this point, there was no alarm in his wife's scent.

"_I want to help." _Sarah's voice called softly in his mind.

"I know." he whispered under his breath. He had no doubt she would hear him.

"_I'm not a coward." _This time her voice in his mind held the distinct resonance of a roaring lion in it. The back note made him shiver.

"I don't have time for this." He murmured. As he reached the mid point of the ally, he realized he had no idea where he was going or what he was getting into. Being unprepared made him irritable.

"_Please?"_

He shook his head, she needed something constructive to distract her and he needed information. "Focus you hearing and see if you can find Esme. Find out who's with her, what they want, and, if its possible, how close I am to them."

There was a long pause as he waited in the shadows. He was about to move forward without the information when she whispered softly in his mind again.

"_There are two of them," _She informed him. _"The one named Mikhail seems to be in charge. He knows you and by the amount of profanity he's using, I'd say he didn't like you very much." _

That was an understatement. He hadn't seen Mikhail in almost two centuries, and they hadn't parted on good terms. In fact, his final words to Carlisle consisted of a fiery promises to make him suffer the same loss he had. The incident that triggered the bad blood was one of many misfortunes to occur in his life that he regretted. In this case, his regret was more for the fate of poor Katrina than for Mikhail loss. Had his former friend been more responsible, it wouldn't have happened.

"_You must be pretty close ," _She continued_. " Because I don't have to listen to two stations in order to keep up with all of you."_

"Listen up Sarah," He began with a sigh as he started down the ally again. "This could get a little rough. If I say. . .'_Sarah, Now!'. . ._ I want you to do to Mikhail and his friend exactly what you did to Cane. Got it?"

"_Yes papa." _

Her answer made him stumble slightly. In spite of his insistence that she should use his first name, she had never called him anything but Doc. He shook the thought from his head and focused on the patch of light at the end of the ally. His mate was in trouble and needed him. Anger rose like a storm inside him and he focused it to a keen edge.

* * * *

Without taking her mental ear off Doc, Esme, and her captors Sarah tried the door again. It wasn't locked; in fact, anyone with a mind too could open it and climb right in. The problem was that every time she got near the doors, a sense of dark impending doom settled over her and she started shaking. If she managed to push that down and touch the door the feeling intensified to the point of making her sick. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't leave the car.

The lion with in her roared and she felt her lips curl into a snarl. What had he done to her she wondered in frustration. She took several deep cleansing breaths in an attempt to quell the lion's rage.

"Sarah, Now!" The bells called.

The lion begged for release and she turned the full force of his furry against Mikhail and his companion. She split her focus between the two of them and rammed the air horn mercilessly into each mind. The screams of their agony immediately filled her sensitive ears. The lion purred with contentment

"Sarah, that's enough." Her father's order for reseals them came softly. There was a sense of sadness in the bells of his voice.

She could still hear Mikhail and his companion whimpering then she heard two distinctly loud cracks that made her skin crawl. What sounded like concrete being pounded into pieces by a sledgehammer accosted her ears next. When that died away there was only deafening silence. The wind stirred and the caustic smell of acid burned her nose.

Panic made her mind real, she had to get out of the car and find out what happened. If Doc and Esme were hurt, if those two creeps did something to her parents her retribution would be swift and agonizing. The lion roared with frustration again.

"_Papa, Esme." _she shouted in the direction of there minds. The lion's roar wrapped itself in the thought as she projected it

"Not so loud honey, that hurts." She heard him whisper. " Relax, we're fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** I don't own Twilight.

**To my readers:**I included a little back story from The New Pet in this chapter for the benifit of those just joining us. I hope it is tastefuly done and I hope that itis helpful.

Chapter 2:

Longest Road Home

Carlisle sighed as he passed yet another mile marker. The road was open and clear before him. By his calculation, they would reach Forks some time after midnight. He spoke to Alice earlier and she was planning a welcome for them. Her exact words were, _"We have a surprise for Sarah." _He wanted to tell her to keep it simple but it would have been a waste of time.

He cut a sideways glance at Esme. She was watching out the window at the landscape as it whizzed by. He smiled as he reached for and took her hand. All he really wanted right now was some alone time with his mate. He sighed again it would have to wait. Alice was a force of nature and when she got an idea stuck in her head there was no stopping it.

As he returned his focus to the road, he happened to glanced up briefly at the rear view mirror. Sarah occupied the center of the back seat. She had her head back and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the music on the MP3 player Edward gave her. Another smile curled his lips, to any one that didn't know better she appeared to be asleep.

He still found it amazing and slightly overwhelming that only a month and a half ago Jasper and Emmett brought her to their home. She was on the brink of death then and in spite of his skill, he hadn't expected her to live. In what would prove to be her typical style, she surprised them all. Her iron constitution and the fact that she was blind would be the first of many surprises Sarah would bring.

Not only did she recover, in the process of her recuperation, she managed to endear herself to his entire family especially Esme and Alice. It came as no great surprise to him when his family rallied to her aid after the brutal murder of her aunt by a vampire named Cane. When it became evident that the killer had his sights set on Sarah as his next victim, they adopted her and placed her under their protection.

The ordeal in Louisiana was a waking nightmare. Watching her go through the agony of her grief brought him to the very edge of his control. Cane's constant harassment pushed him beyond it. Not only did the monster attempt to kidnap her, he tried to implicate Carlisle in the murder of an LBI detective.

The final showdown came when Cane took Sarah deep into the swamp, to her childhood home. He couldn't believe the monster's audacity; this was the place where he slaughtered her family fourteen years earlier. It turned out to be the place where Cane finally found justice. Unfortunately, Carlisle and the family hadn't arrived in time to stop him from biting Sarah and beginning her transformation.

She opened her hazel eyes briefly and appeared to be gazing out the car window but she wasn't. Her eye color was a mystery to him. As a newborn, her eyes should be bright crimson, but hers remained unchanged from there human color. Another mystery was her continued blindness; theoretically, Cane's venom should have healed her vision along with the rest of her injuries. What went wrong during the change would be a subject of his investigation for some time. As far as he knew, it was unprecedented.

"Are you ok honey?" he asked her softly. She nodded and closed her eyes again.

She hadn't spoken much since the incident with Mikhail. Obviously, it still had her upset. She was horrified when they loaded the remains of the two vampires in to the back of the car. That horror only intensified when he drove them miles in to the middle of nowhere in order to burn the remains. He tried to explain these things to her, but she was in a state of shock and therefore unreceptive. In time, he hoped her shock would wear off and she would be open again.

Over the course of their long road trip, he and Esme tried to give her a crash course in Vampire 101. A lot of it, in the beginning anyway, was simply a matter of myth busting. Sarah loved movies and Hollywood had the vampire story all wrong. Once the foundation was laid he started telling her his story and Esme told hers. He gave her brief synopsis of each of her new siblings, preferring to let them tell the more detailed versions of their own stories in time. He was just starting to explain the basic rules of her new life when Mikhail ruined everything.

"How much longer?" she asked. The sound of her voice startled him.

"It's just past eleven in the morning, so, another thirteen hours give or take."

She went back to being quiet. A part of him wished for Edward so he might at least know what she was thinking. Her sullen mood was starting to ware on him.

"Why did he hate you?" She asked flatly.

"Excuse me?" He had been expecting the question for some time but, as with everything else, Sarah had her own timing.

"Mikhail hated you, why?"

That was a long and sorted story, but perhaps if she understood it, it might help and at least she was talking. He took a deep breath, "Do you want the long version or the short one?"

"Both."

He chuckled as he looked again into the rear view mirror at his daughter. She was truly quite stunning and in many ways, she reminded him of Katrina. They both had the same mahogany hair, though Sarah kept hers cut to shoulder length. They shared the same Mediterranean complexion too but Katrina was more deep bronze to Sarah's light olive.

"The short version is he held me responsible for the death of his mate."

"Were you?" A new wave of shock washed across her face.

"No, but that issue would be better addressed in the long version." He took another breath and glanced at Esme. She nodded her silent encouragement and squeezed his hand in reassurance. "I was living in Italy at the time and I decided to take an extended trip to Rome. While I was there, I met Mikhail in a local tavern. I was there to hear the storyteller he was there to hunt. We became fast friends and he invited me to stay with him at his villa. That's where I met Katrina.

She was his mate and she'd only been a vampire for five months. In spite of their short time together, I could tell they were very much in love. Katrina absolutely adored Mikhail and he in turn worshiped the very dust of her feet. It was very beautiful to watch them together.

They made me a welcome guest in their home for several weeks. I found this a bit odd as I was an outsider but I was still young at the time and so I ignored my better judgment. They were intrigued by my lifestyle and they told me where to find the best stag and boar hunting in the hills beyond the city. Mikhail even accompanied me on several hunts but I couldn't convince him to give it a try.

Anyway, one evening Mikhail came to me to ask a favor. He needed to take a business trip that would have him away from home for at least a week and he wanted me to look after his young mate while he was away.

Now here you must understand two things; first, it is very unusual for a newly bonded pair to be apart for more than a day. This is especially true if one is the creator of the other. Secondly, it is highly irregular for a male vampire to ask another unrelated male to look after his mate. You will never hear me ask any male out side of my household to take care of Esme in my absence."

"Would you be jealousy?"

"Very." He answered dryly.

"You don't trust Esme?"

"I trust Esme implicitly, that isn't the issue." He paused to gather his thoughts. "We are a predatory species and as such we're highly territorial. I would treat any outside male as a potential threat to my territory and that territory includes my mate and my children." he smiled and then added. "By the way, that territory includes you as you are my daughter."

He saw her smile and try to look away to hid it.

"Like an idiot," he continued with his story. "I agreed. At first things went well. I accompanied her on her hunts and she went with me on mine. By the third day, she was missing her mate terribly and was very restless. That morning dawned cloudy and she decided she needed a distraction and wanted to go to the market. I saw no harm in it and agreed to escort her.

What I wouldn't have given for Alice's visions and a good weather report.

The trip to the market and the shopping were uneventful. Things went awry on the way home. The clouds began to break, which wasn't a real problem as I insisted we keep to the shady allies and colonnades. This worked well until we reached the _Piazza Navona_ in front of the church of _St. Agnes in Agony_. To this day, I don't know what possessed Katrina but she bolted from my keeping and dashed across the piazza, throwing off her heavy cloak as she went. She leapt into the _Fountain of the Four Rivers_ and began playing with a group of children. At that moment, the sun decided to show itself and the crowd in the piazza gasped in aw at the dazzling brilliance that glistened off her skin.

At first, I was dumb struck and I didn't know what to do. When I regained a measure of my senses, I gathered her cloak, darted to the fountain, and hauled her out. We didn't go home right away, as I didn't want a mob following us. I took her into the hills beyond the city and we hid in a cave until dark. Then I took her home and held my mental breath as I hoped for the best.

What I got the following evening was the worst. Four gray clad members of the Volturi Guard came knocking on the villa door. We were escorted to Volterra and presented before Aro, Marcus, and Caius. To my shock, they had rounded Mikhail up too and we three stood to be judged.

Poor Katrina was terrified, she had no earthly idea what was going on. Once Aro had her calm enough to question, it was determined that Mikhail had taught her nothing of her new life beyond how to hunt and the pleasures of the flesh. Aro was furious with Mikhail for his disregard. It was Katrina who committed the crime and so she had to be punished.

She was executed and Mikhail and I were forced to watch. Because she was in my keeping, Mikhail blamed me for the loss of his mate. Had he been more responsible and taught her what she needed to know, she wouldn't have exposed herself and they would have known many happy years together."

The car went silent when he finished his story. It wasn't a sullen quiet but rather it was a thoughtful one. By her expression, Carlisle could tell Sarah was felling better for having gotten her worry of her chest. He was feeling better too and a sort of peace settled over them as they made the last leg of their long journey home.


	4. Chapter 4

_Note: Twilight does not belong to me!_

_Chapter 3_

_**Camelot**_

_The Watcher sat crouched in the trees near the Cullen home. He hated it here it was wet and miserable. Extremes of temperature were of no consequence to him but he had grown accustomed to the lavishness of The Masters' castle. Skulking in the shadows and perpetual dampness made him irritable._

_Then of course the smell didn't help matters, the entire area reeked of dog . . .wet dog. He would never forget the sight of the line of huge werewolves that stood with Carlisle's coven. The thought made him shudder. The Masters would be most interested to know that what ever agreement Carlisle had with the dogs still held._

_Sarah, the object of his current assignment, was enjoying the morning air on the front porch. They returned late last night to a hero's welcome that would have made Caesar blush. Things were much quieter now. Carlisle and his mate both left the house earlier going their separate ways. Only the children and an odd male were in the house._

_Disgusted with the damp the Watcher pulled his gray cloak tighter around him and settled in for another long day._

_* * * * _

_Sarah contentedly listened to the sounds of the waking day. It was quiet now, but when they returned home last night, they were greeted with warm hugs and happy words. A festive air hung in the house, it was like Thanksgiving, Christmas, a birthday, and a wedding anniversary all rolled into one. It was nice to know the warmth and love of a family again._

_To make things complete, Alice had not one but two surprises for her. The first one she had a hint of the moment she step out of the car. Her skin danced with electricity even as her hairs stood on end. She couldn't help her grin when his saxophone voice greeted her. Had she been human still, she would have blushed._

"_Welcome home Sarah, my dear." Ben greeted her, and like everyone else, he hugged her._

_The second surprise was parked in the driveway. Ben and Alice led her to the place and put her outstretched hands against the cold metal surface. She ran her hands along Carmen's entire length, remembering with fondness all of her smooth familiar lines. Her best friend Skeeter loved the 1969 Ford Mustang as if it was a child and he bequeathed it, among other things, to her in his will. She would never drive the car of course, but she would take care of it forever._

_She sighed as she focused her hearing on a pair of squirrels playing tag in a distant tree. She couldn't think much about Vincent and Skeeter with out feeling sad. However, she was unaware of it at the time, her two best friend, her brothers, and protectors were both vampires. She first met them in high school when they rescued her from a gang of bullies. They were her knights in shinning armor that day and they never stopped looking after their little Sissy. _

_She missed them terribly and sometimes that feeling was worse than at others. What really troubled her was that she didn't really know what happened to them. They convinced her to go camping with them and hauled her all the way to Washington State for the outing. Her last memory of them was of their leaving to gather firewood for the campfire and not coming back. _

_Shortly after saying that they would be back quickly, the screaming began accompanied by the constant howling of the wolves. Papa told her animals attacked them. Somehow, she doubted this._

"_Good morning." The saxophone called her from her thoughts. _

_It still puzzled her how different each of them sounded to her. Papa's voice filled her ears with the ringing of cathedral bells; Esme's was the flute from __Peter and the Wolf. _Ben's voice was the soulful saxophone. Her own voice, strangely, remained the same with no musical quality to it at all.

"I said, good morning," he repeated.

"Forgive me." She finally answered him. She was embarrassed by how rude she was being. "It seems these days I get very distracted. . . .very easily." Then she added. "Good morning Ben."

She heard him laugh. "That's quite alright and very normal. When I was a newborn, the slightest shift in the wind had my mind turning in a thousand directions at once."

At that moment, the aforementioned wind stirred and Ben's face blazed in golden radiance against the black velvet of her vision. He was strikingly handsome, a Greek god come to earth. Papa, Esme and the rest of the family were like that too, more beautiful than words could describe. It was only Ben however, that made her insides flutter when she looked at his blazing image. The day she left Louisiana, he kissed the back of her hand and, had she been human, she would have swooned.

"May I join you?" he asked politely.

She was aware of the empty rocker next to hers and nodded. She heard the wood protest as his weight settled into the chair. Having him so close made her _radar_ kick into overdrive and cascades of electricity danced over her skin. Her _radar_ was one of her special talents and it allowed her to detect the presence of traditional vampires. It didn't work on those who followed her father's lifestyle.

"You're not uncomfortable are you?" Concern filled Ben's voice. He was aware of her gifts.

"No, it's just that I got used to your presence before. I've been away from you for a while so I'll have to get used to it again."

"Good, it would bother me greatly if my being near you put you at ill ease."

She loved to listen to him talk; his speech had a peculiar pattern to it that fascinated her. He had a vocabulary that would put most collage professors to shame, and he often used words that she didn't understand. At some point, if she wanted to continue having conversations with him, she was going to have to commit the entire unabridged Oxford English Dictionary to memory.

"Thank you for bringing Carmen, that was very kind." It astonished her that the car arrived before her. "You must have passed us on the highway when we stopped at Yellowstone."

"On the highway indeed." He dismissed. "I transported you vehicle to Washington by cargo plane. We arrived days ago and I was beginning to wonder if Carlisle was going to arrive here before New Years next."

She found herself giggling.

"What do you find so amusing, milady?"

Her forehead crinkled at the last part. "Milady?"

"Forgive me, it slips out sometimes." he apologized and then he shifted gears. "Have you been hunting yet since you arrived back?"

Her thirst burned at the back of her throat as he mentioned hunting. "No, Papa was going to take me this morning, but the hospital called with an emergency. He said we would go when he got back."

"It could be well past noon before he returns." A smile rang through his Saxophone voice and, when the breeze stirred her vision to life, she saw it on his face. "Why don't you let me take you hunting, I would be most honored to do so."

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I think it would upset Papa, he looks forward to our hunts." That was really the best answer she could give him.

"Nonsense," he stood and the shift in air currents as he moved suddenly illuminated him against the velvet field. She saw, in golden radiance, his hand extended to her. "Come; let me take you hunting Sarah."

Though her better judgment protested, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her from the porch to the edge of the woods.

* * * *

Sarah rose for the carcass of the buck she'd just feed from. Though it retained a measure of its warmth, all life was gone from it. Without Papa there to insist she stalk her meal, she was able to use her favorite ambush method. She was glad too because it was a little unnerving to have Ben watching her hunt. Once she had her pray in hand, settling in to feed had been her next challenge. She could feel his eyes on her as she sank her teeth into the animal's neck and it was very distracting.

"Are you satisfied or do you require more?" he asked as he approached.

"No, one is usually enough." she answered nervously. "Perhaps we should be getting back."

"What's the hurry mila. . ." She noticed he stopped short of calling her milady again. "I was hoping we might take a nice long walk together and . . . .talk." He continued after his stumble.

The breeze stirred and illuminated him as he offered her his elbow. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she accepted. Her better judgment screamed to be taken home and her lion growled. She ignored both as she strolled with Ben.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked nervously. At that moment, she was glad she wasn't human any more, if she were, she would have embarrassed herself by being sick.

"How do you like your new life?"

There was a certain formality in his tone as he asked the question. It was an obvious icebreaker.

"Well, I'm all of a week and a half old, so it's hard to say."

His laughter rang off the trees. "A fair point, but still, you must have an opinion."

The breeze illuminated the forest path before them. The way the trees draped over them to form an arch reminded her of something from a fairy tale. It wouldn't have surprised her one bit if, at that moment, a unicorn stepped from among the trees.

She gave his question a moment of thought. "I guess. . . .I'm still a little unsure of the whole vampire thing but . . . I do very much like having a family that loves me. Being alone made me feel empty inside, but now I feel so full that I'm afraid I might bust."

He chuckled warmly. "Oddly enough milady, I know exactly what you mean."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" She giggled.

"Does it offend you?"

"No." she was still giggling. "It's just unusual, very. . . .Camelot."

It was his turn to laugh. "That is a very perceptive observation. I suppose old habits die-hard.

Her giggles were gone now replaced by a questioning furrow on her brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, only that once a man has been baptized into the code of chivalry, it's difficult to shake off." He paused briefly. "Even after five hundred years."

"Code of. . . .Five hundred. . ." she stuttered. "Are you a. . . .Were you a . . . knight?"

"I was then and I remain to this day a Knight of the Order of St John of Jerusalem." There was a smile in his voice as he spoke. "We are better known as the Knights Hospitalers."

"You mean like the Crusades and the Holy Grail?"

She heard him sigh; he seemed very amused by her reaction. "We, and by _**we**_ I mean the Order, were involved in the Crusades but I believe you're thinking of the more widely known Knights Templars."

"You fought in the Crusades?" Even she couldn't miss the aw and wonder that filled her own voice.

"Light of Heaven, I should think not." the saxophone was full of surprise. "The Crusades ended in the late thirteenth century, I wasn't born until some time in 1495."

"Is that when you became a vampire?" As she asked, they came to a small stream and an outcropping of boulders. He helped her to sit and then settled beside her.

"No, that came later." When she remained quiet, he continued. "I was twenty seven when it happened. The Order had its stronghold at that time on the island of Rhodes. The Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent laid siege to the island in the year 1522. I fell gravely wounded in one of the battles. My fellows in arms retreated from our position as we were being over run and they left me for dead.

That night I was found by what I thought was a corps picker; he turned out to be a vampire. He bit me with the intention of feeding but some soldiers on patrol disturbed him. In spite of my injuries and the raging fire that burned with in me, I made my way to the sea shore and sought shelter deep in a cave. For three days, I lay in agony and prayed for mercy. I wondered what manor of sin I must have committed for God to send the devil him self and hellfire to tourment me while I yet lived.

By the waning of the third day, the fire began to diminish until finally it ceased. To my shock and dismay, my heartbeat ceased with it, but I was still very much alive. I didn't know what to think, as I knew well that a man whose heart does not beat is dead, but I was not.

Then the thirst hit me, burning like Greek fire in my throat. I sought to quench it from the spring at the back of the cave but when I swallowed the water, it made me wretch.

I wandered out of the cave and onto the moonlit beach. I strolled along the waters edge for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I came to a little cove just before dawn and happened upon an old woman preparing her fishing nets. To my great shame and eternal regret, I fell upon the woman and, before I knew it, I was standing over her lifeless body. I drained her of every last drop of her life's blood."

She was impressed by his story and his courage. "Did you go back to the Order?"

"No." his voice was solemn now. "My brethren had watched me fall in battle and I knew my name would be listed among the dead. That fact coupled with my new hellish thirst made it impossible for me to go back."

"That's so sad," she whispered. She felt badly for him, while she had a loving family to help her through the transition into her new life Ben endured it alone.

"Truer words were never spoken milady." He sighed again. "I wandered Europe for a time, making my way as a sword for heir. I settled occasionally but never for very long.

Several centuries later, I met Carlisle and came to the new world on his coattail. We traveled together for a time and I even tried his unusual lifestyle but I couldn't stomach it. We eventually parted company. We always have been and will always remain very dear friends."

* * * *

When they returned to the house neither Papa nor Esme had returned yet. Only Alice and Jasper remained in the house, the others were gone. She assumed they were out hunting but in actuality, she had no idea what they did with their days.

Instead of returning to the front porch, Ben led her to a bench swing under a birch tree in the back yard. The birch was only one of a handful of hardwood trees in the vicinity. Most of the forest in the area consisted of conifers this was in contrast the mixed conifers and hardwoods of southern forests. This dominance had the effect making the whole area smell like a giant Christmas tree.

During their long stroll Ben told her many thing about his life. He made his home in the state of New York and he owned a large house in the Adirondacks. His law practice was based out of New York City, but he preferred to commute and he worked from home whenever he could. Carlisle was one of his original clients that helped found his legal practice, after all every good doctor needs a good attorney. He represented both human and non-human clients alike. This surprised her a little but he explained that working with humans, especially those in dire need helped him maintain his mission as a knight. The code of chivalry demanded he protect the weak, defenseless, helpless, and fight for the general welfare of all.

Often he represented the most disadvantaged and he did this for what ever they could afford to give him or he simply did it free of charge. He made his real money off his vampire clients and the few very wealthy humans he chose to represent.

His reputation for getting his payments _one way or another _was greatly exaggerated. There had been one case where a very wealthy client refused to pay him after a decision hadn't gone his way. After several attempts to collect and a number of very public insults regarding his practice, Ben took his payment from the man in blood.

"That incident is a source of eternal shame for me." He told her as they sat together." I never did that again."

They were quiet for a time, preferring the silence of each other's company. Her morning spent with Ben was the most enjoyable of her existence. If it never ended, she wouldn't complain. The breeze stirred again and she caught another glimpse in shimmering radiance of his handsome face. She closed her eyes and did her best to drill that burning image into the depths of her memory for all time.

"Is every thing alright," He asked with concern. "You look like you're in pain."

"I'm fine." She finally answered. "It's just that. . . .you'll be leaving soon and. . .I was trying to memorize your image."

He took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. The sensation stirred the butterflies in her stomach and made her giddy. If her heart still had a beat, it would be pounding.

"That was one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you." His saxophone voice was low and husky. "Sarah Babineaux, would you be adverse to having me as a suitor?"

"You want to court me?" She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice.

"Yes, I very much want to court you." The ringing of the saxophone in her ears had her head spinning. "Since that morning in the hotel when I first met you, I haven't been able to get you off my mind."

A broad smile spread across her face and she turned her head to try to hide it. Since leavening Louisiana, she often found her mind fixed on her memories of Ben. In the quiet of those long miles, his image would flare before her black velvet vision and send a tingle through her.

"If your answer is no milady, I would completely understand," he stammered. "I realize this is sudden and. . . ."

"Have you asked Papa yet?" She interrupted him. She still had her face turned as she tried to regain her composure.

"No I have not," he sounded startled and a little confused by her question. "I wanted to be sure of your feelings for me before I speak to Carlisle. As you know, he's a long time friend and I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself."

"Then I suppose you'll be speaking to him before you leave." She finally turned back to him. "I wouldn't want to hurt him or the family by engaging in anything clandestine."

"Sarah." He paused and the wind brought the image of his hand reaching for her face into illumination. She felt him cup her cheek in his palm. "Is that. . . .a yes?"

"It's a conditional yes." she felt his bewilderment at her words so she explained. "I don't want one of those whirlwind courtships that last only a few weeks. This life is new to me and I need time Ben."

"Of course my little love, of course." He soothed. "I had _nothing_ less than a year in mind. You need time to adjust to your new life and we need time to get to know each other better." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead making the butterflies threaten to turn her stomach inside out. "I'll speak with Carlisle this evening."


	5. Chapter 5

Note: I don't own Twilight!

Chapter 4

_**Salutations! **_

The Watcher smiled with pleasure as the brown delivery truck lumbered up the drive to the Cullen home. He knew exactly what the driver was there to deliver. In his daily conversation with the Masters, Aro took him into confidence. His current misery would soon be over and he would be home within the comfortable walls of Volterra.

The magnitude of the reward his Masters promised him had his head spinning and his mouth watering already. It would all be worth it, he muttered to himself as he watched the driver get out of the truck. Just a little longer and it would all be worth it.

* * * *

While the contractors worked on converting an unused utility room into a studio for her, Esme set up a work area for Sarah in an out of the way corner of the living room. There was a worktable and a stool but no pottery wheel just yet. For now, she had to be content with sculpting. Edward helped her earlier to construct the armature from some wire coat hangers. While he did the bending, twisting, and cutting to her direction she kneaded the clay. As soon as the piece was finished, she would ask Esme to help her find a local foundry to cast it. It would cost her, but it would be well worth the expense if it made him happy.

Now she sat quietly in the corner applying clay to flesh out the form. She ran her sensitive fingers over the surface to check her progress. The horse was taking shape nicely the rider still needed work. She only hoped she could get the face right. Horses were easy for her, grandpa Babineaux owned several and she often helped groom them. Running her hands over their bodies as she brushed them helped her to memorize their form. People on the other hand were a source of constant consternation for her.

Unbeknownst to every one, except perhaps Edward, her present work was to be a gift for Ben. She owed him one as he had sent her two already, a cell phone so that they could call each other, and a new computer which Emmett and Jasper were currently trying to set up. An ordinary system was no problem for them but her computer had a few extras, like voice activated software that would respond to her spoken commands, a reader program that would read any text on the screen aloud to her and a braille keyboard just to name a few. According to her brothers, the system would probably break the yearly operating budget for most small universities.

"I think you should just call the Geek Squad and be done." Rose grumped. "If you break that thing Ben is going to be be pissed."

"Are you kidding, we can do this." Jasper insisted. "Besides, I doubt those poor Geeks have ever seen a system as sweet as this. It has software and applications I didn't know existed. . . .at least . . .not outside of a government research facility anyway."

_"_Hey Sarah," Emmett called. "I think you boy friend stole your new computer from NASA. I hope he didn't like . . .jack it from the Space Shuttle or something."

"Now why would he do that," She teased back. "When he could drive down to Roswell and jack it off that alien spaceship in Area 51."

"You believe in aliens?" Edward asked skeptically.

"Sure." she answered. "Why not?"

"That's ridicules." He dismissed. "How could anyone possibly believe in little green men?"

"Oops, I just heard the sound of breaking glass." She chided him. "Up until three weeks ago, I didn't believe in vampires but that didn't make _you_ any less real. Besides everyone knows they're gray not green. Gees Edward, where have you been, on Mars?"

Bella and Alice erupted into a fit of laughter as Edward clicked his tongue in disgust. She was about to say something more when her new phone rang. Edward helped her assign different ring tones for everyone so she could tell who was calling her by the sound. Edward's tone for example was a piece of one of his original piano compositions and Bella's was the theme from_ Beauty and the Beast_. Papa's tone was the _Hallelujah Chorus _from Handel's _Messiah_ and Esme's was _Peter and the Wolf_. The sound of this one however, made an instant smile appear on her face. _Siuil A Run _belonged to only one person.

"Oh no," Alice giggled. "Boy friend alert."

She ignored them and answered the phone by pressing the button on the Bluetooth earpiece. "Hello."

"You sound happy." Ben's voice greeted her. "I'm glad to see your learning to use the new cell phone. Did you receive my other package?"

"Oh yes." She answered smartly. "My genius brothers are racking their brains right now trying to get it working."

He laughed and the sound of made her smile even harder. "Are they teasing you my little love?"

"Mercilessly." She pouted.

"Well, you tell them that I said if they don't stop I'll come back out there and give them all a good thrashing."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly say that." She protested with a smile. "I don't like threatening my siblings."

"Threatening us is he." Jasper scoffed. "You tell old legal eagle to bring it on."

"Did you hear that?" She asked playfully. "That's what I must put up with in your absence."

He was laughing again and the sound of it made her long for him even more. "Was that Jasper or Emmett?"

"Jasper." She answered.

"Tattle tale." Jasper whined.

Sarah was giggling as she got up from her stool and start for the front door. She didn't need help to find the way nor was she scared of tripping over anything. The house was as familiar to her now as the back of her own hand. Esme practically nailed down everything movable in the house refusing to allow a single piece of furniture to be shifted. She couldn't wait to get out on the porch.

"You know." Edward called after her in a smug tone. "We can hear you just as well out there as we can in here."

"Yes, I know that big brother," She shot back sounding just as smug. "But out there I at least have the illusion of privacy."

Alice and Bella were giggling again as she shut the front door. Once on the porch she found her favorite rocker and settled in. They talked for what seemed like forever. Ben told her about the case he was working on and about his travel plans. He had a business trip that was bringing him to Seattle in two weeks and he was planning extra time to come by for a visit. That thought made her so happy she nearly squealed with delight.

As he was telling her about one of the outings he was planning for them, she heard the rumble of a heavy diesel engine pulling into the drive.

"Someone's here." she interrupted. "Sounds like a work truck or a deliver van."

"Call one of the others." Ben instructed.

She reached for the radio dial in her mind and tuned her ears as she continued to listen. She heard the driver unfasten his seat belt and get up from the seat. His booted footsteps were heavy as he went to the back of the truck.

"It's a deliver van." She commented without realizing it. "I can hear him rummaging through the boxes and packages in the back."

"Call one of the others Sarah." Ben's tone was more insistent this time.

She continued to listen as he exited the truck, his feet crunched on the gravel of the drive. He was heavy by the sound of him and he smelled of tobacco smoke. The sound of his heartbeat thrummed in her ears and she felt her throat burn and mouth begin to water.

"Don't do this to me little love, call one of the others. Now."

His tone startled her enough to comply and she called out. Within minuets, she heard the front door opened and closed.

"It's ok Sarah." Bella's harpsichord voice soothed, "It's only the UPS man."

* * * *

Carlisle closed the door of Mercedes and took a deep breath before inserting the key in the ignition. He didn't immediately crank the engine as he usually would but instead he sat back in his seat and stirred out the windshield. His mind reeled in multiple directions at once as he contemplated going home. Ordinarily he looked forward to seeing his family but tonight his heart was heavy.

A week ago his friend, arguably his best friend, turned Carlisle's whole world on its ear.

Benjamin Wiseman, in his judgment was a good and for the most part honest man. Carlisle would even go so far as to call him noble. He lived by a very ancient and demanding code of conduct. Even though he followed the traditional lifestyle of his kind, Ben worked for the betterment of humanity. He was to the legal profession what Carlisle was to medicine. His legal practice was practically a charitable organization, representing the underprivileged, the down trodden, and the indigent. He admired Ben in a way he admired few others among his kind. So why then did it bother him so much that Ben requested permission to court _his_ little Sarah?

In spite of his misgivings, he agreed to allow the courtship but not without giving Benjamin, a strict set of rules, and a stern warning. Their friendship not withstanding, should he hurt Sarah in any way Ben's life would be forfeit.

Frustrated with his train of thought he turned the key in the ignition and smiled as the engine roared to life. As he backed out of his reserved space, he determined to take the long way home; he was in no hurry to get there.

It was well past ten in the evening when he arrived in front of his house. The lights were on and he could hear activity with in. The sweet strains of the piano filled the air but the duplicity of notes confused him until he realized not one but two people were playing. Sarah and Edward were practicing together. He couldn't help his smile.

As he entered the front door, his family greeted him with smiles and nods. All except Alice that is, she wore a pained expression that sent a chill up his spine. After hanging up his coat, he put his bag on the little table by the door.

He started for the stairs and the hot shower that he longed for when a package on the coffee table caught his eye. Changing directions abruptly, he went to the table and picked it up. It was several minuets before he realized the house was dead silent and all eyes were on him.

The package was wrapped in plain brown paper. The shipping label had his name and address on it and the senders address read Volterra, Italy. He looked up at the watching eyes of his family, even Sarah's blind eyes seemed focused on him. With a quick turn of his wrist and he had it unwrapped. Inside he found a letter and a box. The letter was written in Aro's elegant hand.

_My Dearest Friend Carlisle,_

_Salutations to you and yours, I hope my letter finds all of you well and happy. It has been some time since we last exchanged correspondences my friend, I do hope that the dreadful business of some years back is not to blame. It was purely a matter of misunderstanding I assure you. I still hold you and your family in the deepest of regards and I can only hope you feel the same._

_I cannot help but wonder how young Edward and his lovely wife are doing. They are both so very talented and they make such a handsome couple. You are a lucky man indeed my friend to have them in your family._

_And what of their beautiful daughter? I was looking forward to many letters from you, the proud grandfather, chronicling her childhood. Alas, to my dismay I received none. I can only guess this to be an oversight brought about by stress and age._

_It has come to my attention that my Dear Ones and I have you and your courageous family to thank for ridding the world of the abominable Cane. My Guard has hunted the beast for several centuries without success. For this service, you have our eternal gratitude. I hope the enclosed gift shows, in some small way, just how grateful we are._

_I have also been made aware that there is a new addition to your beautiful family. According to my sources, the young one has great potential. I am very happy for you, as I know your wife and children are the source of your greatest joy._

_Please relay to the young one, Sarah I believe she is called, my affections and my welcome. I am most eager to meet her. My Dear Ones and I hope to extend our warmest welcome to her in person very soon; as I know, you will be bringing her for presentation. While we may have had our differences in the past old friend, we both understand the importance of maintaining tradition. _

_We look forward to seeing you and Sarah very soon, so please don't keep us waiting. Pass along my best wishes to all._

_Respectfully,_

_Aro_

Just to distract him from the chilling letter Carlisle opened the box. It contained two diamonds; the largest was the size of a goose egg, and an uncut ruby the size of a man's fist. The market value of such stones was mind-boggling. If the poor UPS man who handled the package knew what manor of treasure, he held so casually in his hands he would have probably fainted. What Aro expected him to do with such ostentatious baubles he was unsure.

"Well?" Esme interrupted him from his thoughts.

"Family Council." He muttered as he put the letter and the box back on the coffee table. "Just as soon as I have a shower, I need the time to collect myself."

**_Footnote:_** _Siuil A Run_ (Walk My Love) is one of my favorite song by Celtic Woman. Check it out on Playlist or You Tube and you'll see why its Ben's ringtone. Well, I think it's pretty anyway. Thanks for reading so far, I know this story got off to a bit of a shaky start.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: I don't own Twilight.

Chapter 5

**Complications**

They gathered around the dining room table and waited for Papa. This was Sarah's first Family Council and she was a bit nervous. She sat between Esme and Bella. Esme explained that even though Carlisle was the leader of their family and his authority was absolute, he preferred the democratic approach. It was his philosophy that each member of the family brought a unique set of talents and their own special wisdom to the group. He availed himself of their different viewpoints whenever possible.

To calm her nervousness she brought a golf ball sized chunk of clay with her from the worktable and kneaded it as she waited. She tuned her ears and listened to the sound of her father's footfalls up stairs. By the creaking of the floorboards, she could tell he was in his and Esme's room. The bedroom door opened and closed and she followed his footsteps down the hall to the top of the stairs. He was walking at human speed, obviously taking his time. What ever was in the package had him very upset.

No one went near the coffee table after Papa went upstairs. She listened as they crossed the living room. Every one of them gave the coffee table an the package a wide berth as if it held some object cursed by the foulest magic imaginable. There were whispers among her siblings and the word Volturi came up several times. Just the mention of the name made her shiver. The memory of her father's story about Katrina tumbled to the forefront of her mind. Her overactive imagination conjured images against her black velvet vision of a helpless maiden being slaughtered by three cruel tyrants. By the time her father came down the stairs, she was practically trembling. She felt her guardian lion stir with in her seeking to offer her the comfort of his strength.

She listened to her father as he crossed the living room and collected the package before coming to the table. He didn't take his seat after he put the package down, instead she heard him take a deep breath as he prepared to speak.

"By now I'm sure you're all aware of where this came from." He sighed. "I'll pass it around in a moment, but first if there are no objections I would like to read the letter aloud for Sarah's benefit."

When the room remained silent he cleared his throat and read the letter. By the time he got to the closing of it, her imagination conjured images of her being slaughtered by the tyrants. She wanted nothing better than to find the deepest hole imaginable, crawl into it, and hide. First Cane and now this, just what did the cosmos have against her anyway?

"It doesn't work that way Sarah." Edward corrected her sharply. She guessed he had been listening. "You're a Cullen now and we face out fights."

"Tone it down a little son," her father soothed. "She been through a lot recently, she has every right to wish for a brake."

"She can wish all she wants," Alice's piccolo voice chimed in. "But she's not going to get one."

"What have you seen?" he asked with concern.

There was a long pause before Alice spoke again and Sarah could sense her anxiety. "Aro knows about Sarah's abilities, he's been spying on us. In spite of the warm affection he expressed in his letter, he fears us and he fears Sarah most of all. He sees her as a potential threat and a weapon in our hands to be used against him. He wants her Carlisle, with a perverse passion and he will stop at nothing to get her."

"How has he spied on us?" Edward asked. "Sarah would have detected the presence of an outside vampire."

"He has a watcher who can shield himself from Sarah's radar," Alice sighed. "And, it would seem, from my vision as well. He's been following us since we left Louisiana."

She stopped listening to the family discussion and turned the focus of her mental ears to finding the watcher. Her inner guardian growled with frustration. She reached for the tuning dial in her mind and carefully combed through the stations until she came to an odd one. She hadn't noticed it before, or perhaps she just hadn't paid it any attention because it sounded like static. She turned up the volume and homed in on it. With the volume up, she could make out breathing and mumbled curses behind the constant crackle of the static.

"I can hear him." She muttered softly. "He's hiding in the trees in front of the house. He keeps complaining about the damp and . . . .the smell of wet dog. I don't smell any dog, what's he talking about?"

Her family chuckled knowingly but didn't answer. It unnerved her when they did that because it meant she was missing something.

"Edward why don't you and your take your brothers and go invite our guest in out of the dampness." her father said mildly. "It's rude to just leave him out there."

"Of course, it would be our pleasure."

She heard them get up, but instead of going to the front door, they went out the back. With in minuets the sound of a scuffle came from outside. A few minuets later the front door burst open and she heard her brothers hauling the watcher across the hardwood floor of the living room. They stopped half way and waited for the family.

Esme helped Sarah up and they followed Carlisle to the living room to meet their guest.

"Good evening." she heard Papa's pleasant tone greet the watcher. "I'm Carlisle and this is my family. What's your name friend?"

"Tobias." he replied in a whimper.

"Did Aro send you Tobias?" her father asked in his continued pleasant tone. "You needn't fear, no one is going to hurt you, we only want information."

"My assignment is to watch the newborn and report what I observe to the Masters." He stuttered. "They won't be pleased if you kill me."

"You're a guest in my home friend, now please calm down."

She heard her father cross the room to the small writing desk near the bottom of the stairs. The drawer made a scrapping sound as it slid open and he rummaged inside. She listened to the sound rustling paper and then to the sound of the ink pen scratch against the stationary as he wrote a hasty letter. He folded it once, twice, three times and then she heard him put it in an envelope and seal it.

"Friend Tobias," he addressed the watcher as he came back to where her brothers held him. "I want you to deliver this letter to your Masters. . . .Personally."

"I can't return to Italy with out orders," the watcher protested. "The Masters will kill me."

There was a deep rumble as her father cleared his throat, but when he spoke; his voice was still pleasant and smooth. "Tobias, you have until the first light of dawn to be off my property and out of my territory. When dawn comes, my family will go out looking for you and if they find you still with in our boundaries, they will have my permission to kill you. Now go in peace before I change my mind."

There was the sound of scurrying feet and the front door opening and closing as Tobias made his escape. She listened to his running for a time until she was satisfied he was really going away. The rest of the family drifted off into small groups to discuss the Volturi and Aro's letter. Sarah was in no mood, all she really wanted was to be left in peace.

When no one insisted she join them she drifted quietly toward the solitude of her room. On the way she passed by the kitchen and the most wonderful aroma filled her nose. Intrigued, she started to follow it. The scent led her to the kitchen's central island. She felt her way along the counter top following the strengthening scent until her hand found the fruit bowl. By now, much to her dismay, her mouth was watering. The aroma was coming from a bunch of bananas in the top of the bowl.

She felt a sensation similar to her thirst at the smell of the fruit and it was very confusing. Papa told her that she would never eat human food again. In fact, while she could consume a few bits here and there if necessary to maintain appearances, large quantities of it would make her sick.

She was practically drooling venom and her throat was on fire by the time she left the kitchen with the bunch of bananas under her arm. She knew it wasn't right, but the craving was so strong it overpowered her better judgment. Once inside her room with the door closed she peeled the first banana and took an experimental bite. The flavor exploded on her tongue and it was like ambrosia. It seemed becoming a vampire heightened all her senses including her sense of taste. Bananas were never this good when she was human, in fact she never really cared for them that much. Before she could stop herself, she'd eaten the whole bunch.

With the last bite swallowed, the craving died away and she felt fine. The only ill effect she experienced was a case of hiccups. She was about to go sneak a glass of water when _Siuil_ _A Run _played from her phone. She cursed softly under her breath. Though she wanted more than anything to answer it, she knew Ben would instantly notice her odd affliction. Though she was very new to this life, she was quite sure vampires weren't supposed to get the hiccups.

She let it ring and go to voice mail. She hoped that he would assume she was hunting and call back when she managed to squelch her cursed affliction. This wasn't to be the case. As soon as she started for the door again, the phone began ringing again. With a sigh of resignation, she answered it.

"Yipp. . . Hello."

"Sarah, are you alright?" She could hear the suspicion in his voice already.

"Yipp. . . I'm fine. You'll never guess what. . . .Yipp. . . .happened today." She went on trying to pretend every thing was normal.

"Little love," His voice took on an almost paternal quality. "It has been five hundred years since I was human, but I know hiccups when I hear them. What have you done?"

"Yipp. . . .nothing."

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Sarah, you can either tell me what you've done or I can hang up the phone and call Carlisle and you can explain it to him."

"I had a craving. . . .Yipp. . . .I couldn't help it."

"Couldn't help what?" He insisted.

"They smelled. . . .Yipp. . .so good." She was a little embarrassed now, but she continued anyway. "I ate. . . .Yipp. . .six bananas."

"Dear god." he moaned. "Stay on the line little love; I'm putting you on hold."

"Yipp. . . Why?" She already suspected why, but she asked just the same.

"So I can call Carlisle and get you some medical help." Though his tone sounded calm, it vibrated with annoyance. "Now stay on the line."

* * * *

Carlisle sat on the edge of his favorite chair as he watched Sarah sit uncomfortably on the couch. At regular intervals, she hiccuped, causing her siblings to giggle. While they might find her malady amusing, he did not. As if the letter from Aro wasn't enough trouble now he had this to deal with.

It wasn't totally unheard of for a newborn of Sarah's age to nibble. Their memories of their human lives were still quite acute and they often remembered favorite foods and sought to try them. _Try_ was the optimum word however, as they never touched more than a few bites. Sarah's actions were unprecedented, by now she should be a pasty shade of green and puking her guts out all over his living room. The fact that she wasn't baffled him. Her hiccups baffled him even more as he had never known a vampire to have them.

"Tell me again why you felt compelled to eat six bananas?" He asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to remain calm. She explained it to him once already but he was in so much shock he needed to hear it again.

"I had a craving. . . .Yipp. . . I couldn't stop myself." She replied sheepishly. "The smell of them. . . .Yipp. . .made my mouth water. . . .Yipp. . . .and my throat burn."

"You experienced the sings of thirst at the smell of bananas?" The conundrum that was Sarah continued to deepen. Her transformation had not been an easy one, lasting five days instead of three. He wondered when she woke up still sightless afterwards, what else might have gone wrong.

"Yipp. . . .yes."

"Is this normal Carlisle?" Esme asked. She grimaced ever time Sarah hiccuped.

"No it is not." He answered his wife. She was obviously concerned and so was he. "Have you had this. . . .reaction, before?"

"Yipp. . .no."

Maybe it was just a fluke, an odd quirk of her adjustment process but her feared the worst. Among humans there was an unusual condition called _pica_ in which the sufferer craved and ingested non-foodstuffs like clay, chalk, and even dirt. The condition had many theorized causes, iron deficiency being chief among them. He was unaware of such a condition among vampires but Sarah was a rarity among rarities. Tests and strict observation were defiantly in order.

"From now on Sarah, if you have these cravings I want you to tell me. If I'm not at home call me or if you can't reach me tell one of the others."

"Yipp. . .yes Papa." She looked very contrite and he felt sorry for her.

"In the mean time." He got up slowly and went to fetch his bag. "I'm going to collect a venom sample from you. Hopefully an analysis of it will give us some answers."

"What about the hiccups?" Esme asked. She grimaced as Sarah yipped again.

He smiled at her and tried to look reassuring. "Hopefully, as with humans, Sarah's malady will abate on its own. She can try the standard remedies of course, but I can't say whether they will work or not."


	7. Chapter 7

Note: I don't own Twilight!

I know this chapter is short. I'll try to make the next one longer.

Chapter 6

**Not Again**

It was late at night or early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it. Carlisle lay in bed with his eyes closed listening to Esme breath. She lay curled beside him with her head resting on his shoulder. Quiet time like this with his mate had become the exception and not the rule lately. He had forgotten just how demanding life could be with an inquisitive and energetic newborn around the house.

Sarah kept life in the Cullen home interesting. She required extra care as she couldn't go hunting alone and he and Esme didn't feel confidant yet in leaving her at home unattended. That lack of confidence grew exponentially with the emergence of her _cravings_. A week passed since the original incident. The irritating case of hiccups caused by her ingestion of six bananas took two full days to clear. No one, except perhaps Sarah, was more relieved than he was when they finally departed. The noise made hunting impossible for her. When they finally abated, she made up for lost time with taking two deer on her next hunt instead of her usual one.

He was still running test on her venom in his basement laboratory but so far, his findings were inconclusive. She experienced two more episodes of _cravings _since the original incident both of which she obediently reported to him. There was no real pattern to them; first, it was the bananas, then brownies, and the last episode involved broccoli with ranch dressing. The last two she hadn't actually eaten, thankfully, just reported.

He sighed as he dismissed his troubled thoughts and turned his attention to his mate. He was nuzzling her behind the ear and whispering his affections to her as she giggled with delight when he heard the loud crash. For a moment he lay still, the sound came from down stairs and he worried for Sarah's safety. A clattering soon followed the crash.

He got up from his bed and hurriedly donned his sweat pants and a t-shirt. The look in Esme's eyes as he started for the door spoke volumes; she was worried about her Kitten. As he poked his head out into the darkened hall, other heads poked out around other door jams along the length of the hall to greet him. To his right Edward, Bella, Jasper, and Alice gazed at him with questioning eyes. When he glanced to his left, he found a similar expression on the faces of Emmett and Rose.

He brought his finger to his lips to indicate he wished silence and then gestured for them to remain where they were. After another loud clatter from down stairs, he slipped from his room and into the hall. Quietly he crept toward the top of the stairs. Although they found no signs of Tobias or any other out side vampires in the area, Aro's followers could be sneaky. He was determined that they would not spirit his daughter away in the night.

He stopped at Edward's door and whispered imperceptibly, "Wait here but be ready. If I need you I'll call."

Edward smiled. "I hope it's not raccoons again."

He couldn't help his own smile as he remembered the incident. It happened several years ago when Nessie was the equivalent of about eight years old. She woke in the night and wandered the house. Eventually she managed to get out the back door. There was a family of raccoons foraging in Esme's compost bin, and their granddaughter found them fascinating. Somehow, she managed to coax them all into the house and by the time, Carlisle and Esme discovered it the kitchen and the living room were both completely wrecked.

At the bottom of the stairs, he selected a baseball bat from the umbrella stand. He didn't really need the weapon, but on the off chance that their nocturnal visitor was a human, he needed to look the part of a man defending his home. A diffuse golden light bathed what he could see of the kitchen's interior. He readjusted the grip on the bat as crept toward the kitchen door.

As he peered around the door jam, his fears of an intruder evaporated and he relaxed. Fears of another kind replaced them at the sight of what he found. The door of the refrigerator was wide open and Sarah had practically crawled inside it. The scene would have been hilarious if it weren't so pathetic.

"Sarah." He called her name gently.

She backed out of the fridge and turned to face him. A thin strip of ham dangled from her mouth and another piece waited in her hand to follow it. She wore the expression of a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Aw Sarah." he murmured as he propped the bat by the door and came to her side. A quick glance in the fridge reviled the extent of her binge. She eaten the better part of an entire spiral sliced ham including a portion of the bone.

"Oh honey." He whispered softly as he plucked the dangling scrap of ham from the corner of her mouth and tossed it toward the trash, and then he folded her into his embrace. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"_Yipp_. . .I'm sorry Papa." she apologized. "I didn't want. . ._Yipp_. . .to disturb you."

"Not again." He heard Edward moan from upstairs.

The kitchen light came on and he turned to find Esme standing in the doorway. The look of worry etched on her face broke his heart and every time Sarah hiccupped, it hurt a little worse.

"What this time?" she asked as she crossed the kitchen.

"Nearly an entire ham," he sighed. "Including part of the bone."

"This can't go on Carlisle." She stated plainly, as she wrapped her arms around both of them. "You've got to do something."

* * * *

The nurse handed him yet another chart. The hospital was busier than usual today but that was a good thing, it kept his mind off his worries at home. He opened the chart and glanced at the nurse's notes, twenty-six year old Caucasian female complaining of extreme fatigue. He announced himself before pulling back the curtain that partitioned bed three from beds two and four. He instantly recognized Heather O' Conner; he treated her last spring for a severely sprained ankle after she took a tumble while hiking.

"Heather, how nice to see you again." He always tried to be cordial with his repeat patients; it seemed to put them at ease.

After his initial examination and a long talk with Heather, he ordered a series of test. The results of those tests confirmed his suspicions. During the course of their conversation, Heather mentioned her new fiancé who was a very strict vegan. Because love is often foolish as well as blind, she adopted his life style. Her diet was seriously out of balance causing her to suffer from anemia due to vitamin deficiencies. Aside from recommending a good multi-vitamin and ordering a B12 injection for her, he scheduled her appointment with a nutritionist.

His epiphany came to him as he was making his final notes in Heather's chart. The answer was deceptively simple and yet profoundly complex at the same time. His mind had hit on it initially but he dismissed the notion out of hand. No matter what the underling cause for it might be, Sarah's cravings were a direct result of dietary deficiencies. Unfortunately, he could think of only one solution and poor Sarah wasn't going to like it.

Before leaving the hospital at the end of his shift he passed by the blood bank. Discreetly he snagged two unites of whole blood from the cooler and put them in his bag. The question that still plagued him wasn't _what_ she needed but rather how much supplementation she would require in order to alleviate her cravings.

* * * *

He was both happy and apprehensive as he walked through the door of his home. A quick mental count of breathing patters told him Esme, Alice and Sarah were the only ones at home. Sarah's intermittent _Yipps_ indicated her hiccups hadn't yet subsided. He shook his head and smiled. If this worked, she would never have to suffer them again.

Esme came to the top of the stairs and greeted him with a smile and then she was beside him in an instant. He pulled his wife into his embrace and kissed her passionately. A loud _Yipp _from the corner of the living room spoiled their romantic mood but made them both chuckle.

He bent close to her ear and whispered. "Bring Sarah to my study in fifteen minuets." He sealed his words with a quick peck below her ear.

When he pulled back, he found infinite questions dancing in her honey-gold eyes. He smiled in an effort to dismiss them; they would be answered but not just yet.

"Trust me.," he whispered as he tapped the end of Esme's nose lightly with his index finger then he released her from his embrace and started for the stairs.

"Remember, fifteen minuets." he called back over his shoulder as he ascended to the second floor.


	8. Chapter 8

chapter 7

Note: I don't own Twilight.

_**Scandalous!**_

Esme led Sarah into her father's study. She was a bit nervous but she couldn't say exactly why, his study was a warm friendly place that smelled of books, ink, and old leather chairs. It was into one of these chairs that her mother now settled her. Esme took the seat next to her and they both waited for Carlisle to end their suspense.

She heard him draw a breath to say something but she _yipped_ loudly before he could speak. Her parents chuckled and the sound made her relax, but only a little.

"Well?" Esme decided to usher things along. Her mother was a very patient woman but even she had her limits.

Sarah listened to the rich warm sound of her father's laughter and couldn't help smiling.

"I think I've found a solution to Sarah's cravings." Confidence filled the ringing of the bells in his voice. "It was right in front of my nose all along."

"You know . . ._Yipp_. . .what's wrong with me?"

"Not exactly." He paused and she could almost hear him thinking. "I don't know the underlying cause of it yet but I do know why you're having these strange cravings."

"You found something in her venom?" Esme twittered.

"Not as yet, my testing is still incomplete." He sighed, and she could tell he was getting a little flustered. "Please let me finish."

When they remained silent, he continued. "If you were a human honey, given your recent drastic change in diet and your symptoms, I would say you had a vitamin deficiency. In other words, your body isn't getting its required nutrition from your blood meals."

"How do you fix it?" Esme was eager for answers not explanations.

"I'm getting to that darling." She heard him get up and come from behind his desk. He picked up something as he passed the corner; it made a strange squeaky sort of sound in his hand when he touched it. "Hold out your hand Sarah."

She did as he asked and he filled her out stretched hand with a large Styrofoam cup like the kind one would get at the mall's food court filled with soda. He folded his own hands around hers and the cup as he knelt beside her.

"Do you trust me Sarah?" he asked her softly. "Do you trust that whatever I do, or ask you to do is for your good and that I would never seek to harm you?"

"Yes . . ._Yipp_. . .Papa." An odd scent emanated from the cup. It tickled her nose and she felt her thirst begin to rise in a way she hadn't experienced before. "What's . . ._Yipp_. . . in the cup?"

"Its blood Sarah," he answered. The bells of his voice tolled sadly. "Human blood."

She tried to push the cup away but he still held her hand firmly in his. "No. . ._Yipp_. . .I won't be like . . ._Yipp_. . .Cane!"

"Carlisle please," Esme rallied to her defense. "Surely there's another way."

"Quiet, both of you." It was clearly a command even if it was only made half-heartedly. "I've put a lot of thought into this and I'm confidant this treatment will work." He paused and she felt her father's hands stroke her cheek lovingly. "Sarah, honey, I'm not asking you to give up our way of life. I know you don't want to hurt anyone and I know you don't want to be like Cane. But honey, for what ever reason, you're not getting all the nutrients you need from your hunting and you need to supplement your diet."

"_Yipp_. . .supplement?" She stuttered.

"That's right," The bells in his voice rang with reassurances. "It's just a supplement; it's not intended to replace your regular hunting. We'll start off with just one dose a week and see how you respond and then adjust thing accordingly."

"Who . . ._Yipp_. . .died?" The thought of some poor soul dying for her sustenance was disgusting to her.

"No one," he soothed. "It came from the hospital, its donated blood."

She sat for a time in silence holding the cup; she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Once again, she wondered just what the universe had against her.

What an unbelievably cruel joke the cosmos was enjoying at her expense. She was a blind freak as a human and now, as a vampire, she was a blind freak who's body couldn't decide whether it wanted a stake dinner or stake on the hoof.

All she really wanted at that moment was to bolt from her father's study and hid in her room until dooms day. In her mind, she was an absolute and utter failure and she wondered how her family could stand the sight of her.

"That's not true Sarah." The piano keys of Edward's voice filled her ears. She never even heard him enter the study. "You're not a failure."

"How could you be?" The harpsichord that was Bella continued. "You never asked for any of this."

"Is the child born with AIDS a failure?" The piccolo that was Alice asked. "Or the one whose mother is so addicted to crack that he never learns what love is?"

"What of the mother who finds out that she dieing of cancer on her son's third birthday and learns she won't live to see his fourth, is she a failure?" Jasper's trumpet voice rang in her ears.

"Or the little boy with the learning disability who struggles to learn how to read and write while his classmates tease him and his teachers ignore him." Emmett and the oboe spoke next. "Is he a failure Sarah?"

"Or the little girl born into such abject poverty that her parents choose to sell her into a life of slavery for a few pounds of rice and beans." The sad notes of Rose's violin brought her heart to the breaking point. "Is she a failure?"

"And what about that poor little girl," She felt electricity dance over her skin even as the saxophone filled her ears. "Left blind and alone after being violently stripped of everything she held dear, I suppose she's a failure too," He murmured as he came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You are not now nor have you ever been a failure Sarah. You weren't one that morning I first meet you when you thought I was Cane and you openly challenged me in defense of your new family nor were you one at your aunt's graveside when you stood with courage and dignity in the face of your overwhelming grief. You weren't one when you finally faced Cane and gave him a measure of your own justice even as his venom raged within you. I would definitely say you weren't a failure the morning I took you hunting and I watched you take down a buck with the ease and grace of a leopard." He bent down, planted a kiss on the crown of her head, and whispered into her hair. "And you won't be one my little love, when you stand by my side as my wife and my mate for all of eternity."

Without further hesitation, she consumed the contents of the cup. It wasn't terrible, in fact human blood tasted richer than what she was used to with a pleasant salty/sweet undertone. She defiantly liked elk blood better though as she found its earthy taste comforting like a home cooked meal.

* * * *

Sarah sat on the sofa curled comfortably against Ben's side; he had his arm draped around her shoulder. It felt a bit strange at first to be snuggled up next to him like that with her whole family present and watching. _Scandalous_, her aunt would have called it and then she would have had to endure one of Olivia's long lectures on proper lady like behavior. Her parents and siblings seemed not to pay any attention at all to her wanton behavior. It was as if her desire to be so close to Ben was a normal and natural thing, and not at all inappropriate.

"That's because it is normal and natural." Edward groaned. "He's your mate, it's expected."

"Your not feeling guilty are you little love?" the saxophones held a note of amusement.

"You have _no_ idea." Edward answered before she could speak. "The words scandalous, wanton and inappropriate all fluttered through her mind in rapid secession."

Ben laughed but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her in tighter and planted another kiss on the top of her head. "If you think this is wanton and scandalous little love, I can't wait to see what you think of our behavior after we're married. Our honeymoon is going to seem down right. . . ."

"Benjamin!" Esme corrected him sharply.

"Blissful, mother," He caught himself. "I was going to say blissful."

Edward laughed but he didn't betray Ben's original thoughts. Blissful indeed, she mused as words like lustful and licentious came to mind as being more Ben's speed. Edward laughed even harder. She wished she could see so she could throw something at him. She hated it when he snooped, especially considering how hard he had to listen in order to hear her super quiet thoughts.

"_Did you hear that brother," _She deliberately projected the thought in his direction. _"If only I could see I'd throw my shoe at you."_

"I heard you Sarah, and I love you too." Amusement played across the ivory keys of his voice.

She heard her father clear his throat. "Ben, could you be persuaded to allow us to impose on you."

"Impose away old friend." Ben answered cheerfully.

"Well . . . Uhm, as you can see Sarah can be quite a handful and. . .Well I was wondering. . ."

"You were wondering," He interrupted with a pleasant smile in his saxophone voice. "If I might be persuaded to keep watchful eyes on your rambunctious daughter while you and your family takes a much deserved break and meets your needs."

"Well, yes." Her father answered a bit shyly. She heard him run nervous fingers through his hair. "You see it's not that we don't. . . well, we all love Sarah very much but. . ."

"You needn't explain." Ben dismissed. "I was actually hoping for some alone time with my . . . mate. So, we will be doing each other a mutual favor."

She felt relief wash through the room like a sigh and she heard them begin to drift their separate ways.

"How long will . . ._Yipp_. . . you be gone?" She was a little apprehensive, except for the time Cane abducted her she had never been away from her whole family all at once.

"Your mother and I will be back by dawn." Carlisle voice was reassuring, as he seemed to sense her nervousness. "The rest my stay out as long as they like."

"Keep her out of the kitchen." Emmett called playfully. He had just opened the front door for Rose. "She had a bad habit of putting things in her mouth that she shouldn't."

She heard them all laugh and then the house went silent but for the sound of her and Ben breathing.

* * * *

The word scandalous and the sound of her aunts disapproving voice marched through her head again as she realized she was at home alone in the company of a man. Suddenly she was uncomfortable, especially with the word _mate_ being thrown around so liberally. Boy friend she could understand fiancé she could live with but _mate_ hinted at things she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to contemplate yet.

For modesty's sake, she decided to move from her nest next to Ben on the couch to her father's favorite armchair. In response to her attempt to move Ben hugged her just a little tighter.

"Having second thoughts about my company little love?" his voice held the tone of a fake pout.

"_Yipp_. . .Of course not." The lie tasted foul in her mouth but she managed it anyway. It wasn't really second thoughts she told her self in an effort to ease her conscience but rather a bad case of morality. Then she decided to change subjects. "How is it that you're here?. . . _Yipp_. . . I thought you weren't coming. . ._Yipp_. . . until next weekend."

"Are you disappointed?" The fake pout was now a subtle tease. He was overtly flirting with her. She was glad she had her back to him so he couldn't see her smile.

"_Yipp_. . .no." She hoped her voice didn't betray what she really felt, which was surprise. When he walked into the study and delivered his soliloquy, she wanted to squeal. "I wasn't. . ._Yipp_. . .expecting you. . ._Yipp_. . .is all."

He was laughing now as he kissed the top of her head again. She was starting to like it very much when he did that and she found that fact unnerving.

"You know milady, your hiccups are starting to become tiresome."

"I've tried. . . ._Yipp_. . .every cure."

"Not every cure," He got up from beside her and hauled her to her feet. "I think I have one you haven't tried. It's very old and it _always_ works."

She allowed him to lead her across the living room and out onto the front porch where he settled her into her favorite rocking chair. She listened to the sound of the night as she waited for him to take the seat next to her but he didn't. Instead, she heard the floorboards groan as he knelt before her. The next thing she knew he was holding her left hand in his and she felt his nervousness as he cleared his throat and prepared to speak.

"I realize I promised you a year's courtship and I swear to you my little love, you shall have it. In fact, I intend to pursue my wooing of you with ardent vigor." He paused and took another breath and she realized his hands were shaking. "But it would make the strain of our being separated from each other easier for me to bare if . . . Well that is. . . ." he paused again; this was obviously very hard for him. "Sarah Babineaux you are the light of my heart and the joy of my soul, will you do me the honor of accepting my ring and agree to become my wife?"

From courtship to engagement in the matter of a few weeks, she mused when she could finally get her stunted mind to focuses, talk about your whirlwind romances. She was in shock but she couldn't help the answer that tumbled from her lips because there really was nothing else she could say . . . And nothing else she wanted to say.

"_Yipp_. . .yes!"

The sudden rush that washed over her as she felt him slip a ring on the third finger of her left hand surprised her. The butterflies in her stomach were dancing so hard that she though they might fly up her throat and out her mouth.

"_Yipp_." she hiccuped loudly and then cursed under her breath.

Ben chuckled as he hauled her out of the chair and into his arms. If he hadn't been holding her up her knees would have buckled and she would have fallen.

"It seems. . ._Yipp_. . .your cure was. . ._Yipp_. . .unsuccessful."

"Oh, is that what you think?" His voice sounded husky and dangerous. "And what if I told milady that . . . That was only the prelude to the cure."

"Then . . ._Yipp_. . .what's the cure?"

He said nothing in answer to her question; instead, he cupped her face gently in the palm of his huge hand. The breeze stirred and his illuminated image blazed against her black velvet vision as bent toward her. She stifled a moan as the end of his nose brushed against hers and she could feel his breath against her skin. It smelled sweet, like gardenias and reminded her of lazy summer evenings. Her body responded to him as if of its own accord and she found herself on her tiptoes and leaning in to him.

"Don't be afraid Sarah." He whispered hoarsely.

His lips brushed against hers as softly as rose petals at first. Then, as she relaxed, he kissed her with more urgency. The world around her dissolved into a black velvet mist, time ceased its march, and the earth stood still. If her heart hadn't stopped beating almost two a month ago, she would have sworn she felt it pounding against her ribs. There was a ringing in her ears that she'd never known before and her body felt all wiggly and week like Jell-O. By the time he released her lips from his possession, she'd forgotten how to breathe.

Undoubtedly, he found her reaction to his kiss amusing and, though he continued to hold her, he chuckled softly. "How are the hiccups?"

To her amazement, they were gone.

**Footnote:**I like to listen to music when I write and when I draw. The last part of this chapter was written to "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid. Every time I got stuck, I heard Sabastian say . . . Go on and kiss the girl. In fact I wanted to give the chapter that name, but it would have given away too much. Anyway, I hoped you all enjoyed that.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Note:_** I don't own Twilight.

Chapter 8

**Check Mate**

Carlisle was enjoying his Sunday paper as he listened to the wonderful music of his family at play. Edward and Alice were engaged in a game of chess and Emmett and Jasper had wagers on who would win. The stakes were already very high, a million dollars. It was a sum neither one of them possessed. In fact, they had each gained and lost that same million back and forth between them more times than he could count.

Bella had her nose in a book; she had just about devoured his entire library since her transformation. When he asked her about her voracious appetite for books, she told him Edward had almost a century on her and she had a lot of catching up to do. At this he could only laugh.

Esme was working on a needlepoint project while keeping a watchful eye on the chess game. Both Edward and Alice were known to cheat. Rose was engrossed in a movie, one she had see several dozen times but she never seemed to tire of it because it was her favorite. She could practical quote the entire thing line for line.

His newest daughter was busy at her worktable. Ben hovered near by; fascinated by the fact that even without her sight Sarah could create stunning works in clay. At the moment she was working on an impromptu sculpture of her future husband's face. Ben sat patiently as Sarah's sensitive fingers explored his features. Then she would repeat her findings in the pale clay. She was remarkably accurate.

As she worked, a glint from her left hand caught his eye briefly. He and Esme had been a little surprised when they returned from hunting that night a week ago to find the ring on Sarah's finger. It was inevitable of course, Sarah was Ben's mate but he was hoping to delay that inevitability for a little while longer. He loved his daughter very much and wasn't entirely prepared to loose her yet.

It won't be that bad he told himself, Esme had seen to that. In order to garner his wife's consent Ben had to agree to keep Sarah close to home. To that end, he was making plans to set up a branch of his law practice in Seattle and buy a home outside the city. Carlisle was very glad of Esme's foresight; with her anemia, she would require his continued medical supervision. Close enough to keep the family happy yet far enough away to allow the new couple its privacy.

His treatment seemed to be working as her condition was much improved. The hiccups were gone on the same night she accepted Ben's ring. He could only guess that the shock of being purposed to scared them away. The week passed with no more _cravings_ and he would give her another treatment on Monday. He was ordering blood for her now instead of taking it from the hospitals precious supply. The first delivery came early Saturday morning, he had it stored, and waiting in his laboratory's cooler.

He smiled again as he went back to his paper. These were the moment of his life he enjoyed the most. If it were up to him, he would wall off this moment in time and keep it forever. He took a deep breath and started reading an article about the local school board.

"Little love, what is it?" Ben's voice sounded panicked.

He looked up again to find Sarah frozen in place. She was a pale shade of green and a look of fear twisted her expression. Instantly he put down his paper and came to her side. The last time he saw that look, Cane joined them unexpectedly for breakfast.

"She senses something." Edward murmured. "Look at her skin, she's got goose bumps. I didn't know we could get those."

"I've never known one of us to have them before." Carlisle answered quickly then turned back to Sarah. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Static. Tobias is back and he's not alone." She answered. She closed her eyes and turned her head slightly as if trying to hear something better. "He's with four . . . No five others and their not far off. The car their in had a blowout and . . . . Their three miles north of the turn off for the house."

"And they'll be here in about twenty minuets." Alice added. "They've come for Sarah and their prepared to take her by force if necessary. Jane, Tobias, and four others I don't know."

Twenty minuets wasn't a lot of time, his mind kicked into high gear. "Ben, take Sarah and get her as far away from here as possible."

He watched Ben take Sarah by the elbow but she struggled against him. "What ever happened to _A Cullen doesn't run from his fights_."

"Don't argue with me Sarah," He snapped. Instantly he regretted the harshness of his voice. He added in a much soft tone. "Please honey, there isn't time."

"Come little love," He heard Ben soothed as he led her towards the kitchen and the back door. "The Volturi are very dangerous and should not to be trifled with."

He listened to their footfalls as they diapered into the forest. He had no fear for Sarah's safety, as her mate Ben would put her well being before his own.

* * * *

Instead of letting her run, Ben insisted on carrying her. She was sure her weight would slow him but it didn't seem to. It was easier, he said, that having to travel at half speed and worrying about whether she fell too far behind to judge his footfalls.

"Nothing gets the noble Knight banished from the kingdom quite so quickly as smashing the King's daughter into a mighty oak." He joked in an effort to ease her anxiety.

She could tell they were moving faster that she would ever try under her own steam. The images created by the swirling air currents blazed in vivid detail against her velvet vision. She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she tightened her grip on him.

"Upon my honor milady, I won't drop you." He assured her.

"That's nice to know." She commented. "But if you don't mind, where is _milord_ taking me?"

She heard his laughter ring in her open ear and vibrate through his body with the one that rested against him. "To a cave Edward told me about once. It's high in the mountains; the only danger is that we have to cross a narrow strip of Quileute territory to get there. Hopefully I can outrun them."

She'd heard her family mention the local native tribe many times. Bella and Edward's daughter was married to one of their promising young leaders and the family had a truce of sorts with them. Their tribe had a secret of their own; many of their young people were shape shifters. Her Uncle Fisher told her many stories regarding Spirit-Walkers and shape shifters. According to him, her own great-grandfather was a powerful Choctaw shaman who could transform into a panther when the need arose. Neither he nor her mother inherited the talent. Her Grandfather denied the gift but her uncle told her a story once that cast that denial into serious doubt.

It came as no surprise to her uncle then when Cougar, or the lion as she referred to him, chose to be her totem. While it was generally considered a warriors totem it was also a deeply embedded family trait. The attack on her family and loosing her sight, by her uncle's account, also had something to do with it. Cougar felt she needed protecting.

Even now, she felt him rise within her to comfort her as she worried about the danger her new family was in.

"Well be crossing the boundary very soon," He informed her. "Tune your ears and see what you find."

She closed her eyes and listened for the sound of minds in the distance. She detected three distinct stations. They were unusual in their duplicity, both animal and human at the same time. The effect was like hearing something in double exposure. She shook her head to clear the odd sensation from her mind.

"Three, close to the boarder." she told him and clung a little tighter as she felt him transition into a faster gear.

The three Quileute were on an intercepting course to start with, as soon as they crossed the boundary that intercepting course became a pursuit. While the burden of carrying her might not have been a problem under ordinary conditions, with three shape-shifted wolves on their heels it was a problem. She heard the paws of the heaviest sounding one leave the ground as it leapt into the air. Its body made a faint whistling sound as it hurdled toward them, she braced for impact. The wolf struck Ben in the middle of his back and sent him sprawling. Sarah flew several feet and slammed into a pine tree before falling to the ground.

The wind stirred and the image of horror filled her velvet vision. The three huge wolves had Ben surrounded. They were circling him and she could tell they were preparing for an attack.

"We're friends of Carlisle." He told them, extreme calmness played from the saxophone of his voice. "The girl is Sarah, his newest daughter, she is my mate."

He didn't manage to get another word out before the largest of the wolves jumped at him the rest followed. The struggle raged no more that thirty or forty paces away and she felt helpless. Her family was in danger from the Volturi, her mate was in danger from the wolves, and she was sitting in the leaf litter doing nothing. The universe seemed poised once again to steal away everything she loved. Rage and indignation coursed through her like the waters of a flood-swollen river until she was shaking with it. From deep inside she heard the angry lion roar. It was so loud she felt compelled to open her own mouth and mimic the sound.

Suddenly she was within herself and an image formed in the darkness, filling her mind's eye.

He was there, her lion, standing on a high bluff looking down at her, fixing her with his amber eyes. His mane rustled in the gentle breeze as he appraised her. He had looked just that way when she met him for the first time on that warm July evening at her uncle's house. He didn't speak to her this time as he had then, instead he through back his head and roared again.

The next thing she knew she was on top of the bluff looking down at where she had just been standing only moments before. The pain came next, fire and lighting dancing in alternating waves across her body. She looked at her hand and arm and watched in horror as it rippled and contorted until it was no longer an arm but a tawny foreleg with a broad claw tipped paw at the end. She opened her mouth to scream but a loud roar ripped from her throat instead.

The sound of the roar echoing in her natural ears made her open her eyes. To her amazement, she could see. In fact, her vision was so acute it was like HD on steroids and it made her stomach roll. She knew she was standing, she could feel the damp earth beneath her feet but her point of view was entirely to low. Then she noticed the tawny muzzle and long white whiskers that filled the lower third of her vision. A quick look down brought fur covered forelegs and broad feline paws into sharp focus. She had become her lion.

Ben's scream drew her from her state of shock. She laid her ears back and hissed fiercely before launching herself at the nearest wolf. A low growl rumbled in her throat as she plowed into the side of the brindle colored wolf and knocked him off his feet. The wolf whined like a scalded dog as Sarah's long canines locked into its shoulder. The flavor of his blood surprised her; it had both the rich, salty/sweet taste of human blood and the earthy quality of animal blood. She felt her thirst rise and burn like demon fire in her throat. It was all she could do to stop herself from draining him dry. Instead, she wedged her powerful hind legs under his belly and catapulted the whimpering beast into the air. He landed with a resounding thud against a nearby tree.

In typical cat like fashion she was quickly on her feet again and ready to attack, but the wolves suddenly backed off. Her ears twitched as an ocean of sounds accosted them all at once. It took her several moments to focus on the ones most relevant. Two sets of footsteps were approaching them. She cast a sideway glance at Ben seeking his council as to what the next move should be. That's when she caught sight of his expression; it was light years beyond shocked. In an effort to relive his distress, she sat down on her haunches and wrapped her tawny tail around her feet like a good kitty.

Two figures broke from the tree line, one male the other female. The female was very beautiful and Sarah recognized her from listening to her family talk about her. This was Nessie, Papa and Esme's granddaughter. That could only mean the half-dressed man at her side was Jacob, her husband. They approached casually, stopping only long enough for Jacob to examine the brindle wolfs injured shoulder.

Jacob looked curiously at Ben and then Sarah, his eyes demanding an explanation. She heard Ben sigh; his shoulders slumped a little when he did.

"I'm Benjamin, this" He glanced in disbelief at her before continuing. "And this is Sarah, my mate."

"Oh, Sarah!" Nessie exclaimed, "Yes, I've heard mom and dad talk about her. It's nice to finally meat you Sarah."

For whatever reason Nessie didn't seem at all phased by the fact that the blind vampire her parents told her about was now sitting before her as a tawny lioness. Her husband seemed a little more confused; she could read it in his eyes.

Jacob took a breath and then regarded her kindly. "I'm going to approach you now Sarah. Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

She tensed a little as she watched him come nearer. In many ways, he reminded her of her uncle, bronze skin, dark mysterious eyes, high cheekbones, and raven hair. He had an air of confidence when he walked that reminded her of both a king and a stalking predator at the same time.

He knelt before her and looked deep into her eyes. Soon a warm smile curled the corners of his beautiful mouth.

"What Nation?" He asked in a sigh.

She focused on the sound of his mind and projected the answer. _"Choctaw."_

"Interesting." He mumbled. "Well, while you're a stunning specimen to look at like this darling, I think your . . . mate . . .would be more comfortable if you phased back."

She dropped her gaze shyly. _"I don't know how."_

She heard him laugh.

"Is this your first time sweetness?" His voice was full of aw and surprise.

She gave him the feline equivalent of a nod. Then she remembered her family back home and all the danger they were in. _"Are you a friend of Carlisle's?"_

"I married to his grand daughter pretty paws, what do you think?"

"_He and the family are in trouble." _She sent quickly. _"Six Volturi showed up looking to steal me away. I'm afraid for them and. . . ."_

"Settle down." He soothed and then turned to the three wolves behind him. "Seth, contact the rest of the pack. Tell them to high-tail it over to the Cullen place; those gray cloaked freaks are harassing my in-laws again."

* * * *

Carlisle lay writhing in agony in the middle of his driveway as Jane projected the impression of being burned alive into his mind. He knew it was only an illusion, but it still left him awash in the most exquisite pain imaginable. He would never forget the experience.

"Now, I'll ask you again Carlisle, where is Sarah?"

The pain diapered as Jane released him. He took several gasping breath and struggled to get to his knees.

"The next time I'll give your lovely wife a taste of the flames." Jane threatened. "I can't wait to watch your face while she screams."

"I told you . . .already." He gasped. "She's . . .gone . . .hunting."

"Lie." She spat back. "Tobias told us everything. Sarah never hunts alone and you're all here, so where is she."

"Hunting with her mate!" Edward growled.

"Impossible, she's what, a month and a half old maybe two." Jane turned to Edward with a snake like grin on her face. "How could she have a mate?"

The first thing Jane did before beginning her interrogation of Carlisle was to have a hulking mastiff of a vampire subdue Bella. The mastiff, whose name ironically was Brutus, stood beside Jane holding his struggling daughter tightly. This was meant to render her shielding ability useless, as Jane would be inside the shield's bubble.

"Never mind her age," Alice purred. "She has a mate just the same . . .a dangerous one too."

Carlisle glared at his daughter as he wondered what she was up too. She ignored his questioning gaze and continued to lay it on extra thick.

"Trust me; he's not the kind you want to be messing with." Alice went on, "Hell, even we're scared of him. Carlisle practically jumps through the ceiling every time Sarah's phone rings. If I were you, I would get to stepping before he comes back from hunting with her. He uses vampire like Brutus here to pick his teeth with after meals."

For the first time since they arrived, Jane and the Volturi looked nervous. They glanced quickly back and forth at each other in anxious silence. Jane was the first to regain her composure.

"What's his name?" Jane inquired in a dangerous tone.

"We don't speak his name aloud." Edward joined in. "Bad things happen when we do."

"Like what?" Brutus asked nervously.

His family shared pensive glances but said nothing.

Finally, Jasper broke the silence. "You don't want to know."

The Volturi whispered among themselves like frightened children. It seemed they were as suppositious as a bunch of village washerwomen. He was about to add his own goading to the act when he noticed a large lupine head poke out from behind the far corner of the porch. Suddenly wolf's heads were peering at him from multiple vantage points around him. He smiled.

"Jane dear, do you play chess?" Carlisle asked quietly.

The shorthaired Volturi turned to him suddenly. Her expression was one of puzzlement. "Of course, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Because my dear, your king is in check mate." At his words, the wolves came out of their hiding places to form a ring around the Volturi. "I suggest that you and your associates get out of my territory before my furry friend here take further exception to your presence. I don't think I could stop them if they decided to attack."


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

_**The Agony & The Ecstasy **_

"She did what?" Carlisle exploded into the phone. Immediately he noticed his family's response as they stared expectantly at him.

He turned his back to them, not wanting to look into the questioning eyes when he himself could scarcely comprehend what Benjamin was telling him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on each word as Ben spoke on the other end of the line. He felt his brain scream in protest as it tried to wrap itself around what he was hearing. When the line went silent, Carlisle sighed.

"Tell Jacob that Esme and I will be there presently. Do not let her out of your sight, do you hear me?"

When Ben acknowledged his understanding, Carlisle hung up.

He could feel their collective gaze drilling into his back. He could almost imagine the expression he must have been wearing when he first heard the news. They knew something was up and they wouldn't be satisfied until they had answers. Only Edward would know the truth by now but, as a good son, he would defer to his father and wait with the others for an explanation.

He massaged small tight circles against his forehead, as if he had a headache. If he were still human, he would have a massive migraine by now.

"_Son," _he thought, knowing Edward would hear him. _"Wait until your mother and I leave, and then explain it to the others please. I know I dump on you a lot and I'm sorry for that, but I just can't do this right now."_

That done, he turned around and looked at his wife. "Ben is taking Sarah to Billy Black's house. I'll explain on the way."

"Is she hurt?" Bella asked. The concern in her voice mirrored the expressions on the faces of the rest of his children.

"No," he snapped as he moved toward his car. "Edward will explain."

He said nothing more as he opened the door of the Mercedes for his wife and watched her get in.

_* * * *_

Sarah raced through the forest on silent paws. She was exuberant. Once the initial shock of having shape-shifted for the first time passed, she found the alternate form intriguing.

Jacob explained to her how to phase back but she couldn't do it when she tried. According to him, she was too worked up right now. She wouldn't be able to phase back until she settled down . . . considerably. This wasn't unusual, Nessie explained, most young shape-shifters in the tribe phasing for the very first time had similar reactions. It could only be assumed that things would be no different for a shape-shifting vampire.

She didn't feel like settling down now as she ran with Ben and the pack. Her HD vision picked up every minute detail of the forest around her. It was almost distracting in its clarity. She could make out very distinctly every leaf on every tree, every individual blade of grass, and every stone and twig in the path before her. Over the years, she'd forgotten just how green the color green could be and the forest illustrated the depth of the color in all its varied shades and hues. Getting used to being able to see again was going to be a beautiful challenge. It was spectacular.

The scent of a deer filled her nose and made her throat burn. Without a thought she veered left abruptly. She used her long thick tail like a rudder to maintain her balance as she made the sudden directional change. She didn't even break stride. Now she coursed along an almost invisible game trail and she used her sharp claws in the same way a football player used his cleats. They gave her the added traction she needed on the loose forest loam.

A fallen tree blocked the path several strides ahead of her. Instantly she judged the height and distance, covered the remaining ground, and launched her self up and over the obstacle. She wanted to shout with unadulterated joy as she sailed out over the fallen tree. The experience of flight and her nimble landing on the other side of the tree made her forget the deer. She pranced and cavorted among the ferns like a playful kitten. One word resonated through her mind, Glorious.

"Sarah," Ben's voice called softly.

She turned back to the log; Ben was standing on the other side of it watching her. The shock was gone from his Greek god face, now he wore an expression of concern on it like a Mardi Gras mask. Honestly, she couldn't understand why, this was wonderful. With a mental sigh, she trotted back to the log.

She stood up on her hind legs and braced her forepaws against the log. When she looked up, she was at eye level with Ben. She could only hope her feline face wore a smile.

"_Did you know you that you're absolutely drop dead gorgeous?" _She projected into his mind. The thought dripped with affection and playful fascination.

He looked very different to her now in the natural eyes of her alternate form than he did in the blazing luminescence of her sound vision. With the eyes of the cat, she could make out colors and the infinite detail of his features. For example, his hair was almost the same shade of golden dun as her pelt, his eyes were the deep burgundy of a fine red wine, and his skin had the paroled look of a librarian who never left his library.

"Well, milady, coming from my mate that's a considerable complement." He laughed nervously. "However I find it a bit disconcerting when my mate's mental voice seems to be coming from an over-sized lioness."

"_I'm still Sarah," _She insisted.

He smiled as he reached for and then scratched her left ear. "I know little love, I know. I just need time to adjust." The sad confused look in his eye made her hurt inside. "Come on, we should catch up with the others."

She followed several paces behind him, maintaining a comfortable jog as they made their way back to the main trail. The hurt inside her continued to grow as she recalled every shocked, sad, and confused look she had seen in Ben's eyes since she shifted. The pain of it was so intense that she thought it would burn a hole in her chest. She knew the sensation all to well, as a human with a disability she had been well acquainted with it. The feeling had a hideous name that was bitter on the tongue when it was spoken . . . It was called rejection.

Sarah slowed to a stop and watched quietly as her beloved continued to run on ahead of her. She watched him disappear into the infinite sea of green in the distance. A sudden frightening thought occurred to her. If her mate would reject her because of her altered state, what would her parents think? The mere thought of seeing that same shocked, sad, and confused look in Papa's and Esme's eyes made her stomach turn.

Slowly, sadly, she turned from the trail and plodded through the thick, chest high ferns. She couldn't let them see her like this, it would be too hard.

The breeze stirred and she sniffed it, tasting the very flavor of the air. Maybe she could find that deer again she mused. Nothing cleared the mind better that a successful hunt. Her thirst was suddenly very acute and she focused all her senses on the task of finding a meal.

* * * *

"What do you mean you lost her?" Carlisle bellowed angrily at Ben and Jacob. "How the bloody hell did you manage to loose a blind, shape-shifted, vampire! God in heaven, what part of _do not let her out of your sight _did you not understand?"

His rage was white hot and it took every ounce of concentration he had to maintain his control. _This is your best friend, your daughter's mate, and your future son-in-law_. _This is your best friend, your daughter's mate, and your future son-in-law,_ he kept chanting repeatedly in his head. That mantra was the only thing that kept him from ripping Benjamin to shreds with fiendish glee.

"Take it easy Pops, before you blow a gasket or something." Jacob soothed in his typical nonchalant way. "Seth and the rest of the pack are out looking for her."

He glared menacingly at Jacob. If the boy wasn't married to his grand daughter, he would be another one Carlisle would take great satisfaction in ripping apart.

"Jacob!" he growled, but an ice-water look from Esme made him bite back the rest of his angry tirade.

"Honestly," his grandson-in-law went on in a more serious tone. "This sort of thing isn't that unusual for first timers. They have many internal issues that they have to work out. Fear, exhilaration, shock, amazement, and those are only a few of their own feelings."

Jacob paused as he glanced at Ben and then fixed him and Esme with a serious look. "They also tend to worry a lot about what their loved ones will think; will I be accepted, will mommy and daddy still love me, will my siblings still want to hang out with me, will my blood-sucking boyfriend still want to marry me? It really is heavy a load."

"That may well be Jacob, but there is one small detail you've managed to overlook." Carlisle spoke through gritted teeth. "This first timer happens to be my daughter!"

"Carlisle." Billy spoke calmly. "We're doing everything we can. If you and your family would like to join in the search, you're more than welcome to."

"Thank you," he answered as he fished his cell phone from his pocket. "May we use your home as a base of operations?"

"Sure, why not, everybody else does," Billy chuckled.

Carlisle liked Billy Black, he was one of the most sensible and balanced humans he had ever met. He, like his ancestors, could be reasoned with and he reserved judgment on matters until he had examined every aspect of the problem in question. In a strange way, Billy reminded Carlisle of himself.

* * * *

Sarah lazed in typical feline fashion among the warm rocks. The heat radiating from them felt like heaven as it penetrated her coat. Her hunt was very successful and her stomach bulged from fullness. Not only had she taken every last drop of the elk's blood but she feasted on several pounds of its flesh as well. Her desire for the meat of her kill was something new to her. She hoped she wouldn't pay for the indulgence later in the form of those cursed hiccups.

She ran her rough tongue over the side of her paw several times and then passed the damp paw over the side of her face. Grooming seemed instinctual; she'd been doing it off and on ever since she finished her meal. Purring too seemed to be an innate behavior. She now understood why cats did it. She found the deep resonant hum as soothing as the sound of Esme's singing.

The sun peeked briefly from behind the clouds making her smile inwardly. The golden light danced off the hairs of her tawny coat making it look as though someone had powdered her with pearl dust. The effect it created made each hair glisten in silvery hues of pinks and greens like the inside of an abalone shell. Papa told her what would happen if she stood in the sun light in her people form; she assumed this was an offshoot of that. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth, she hoped it would relax her and she could phase back.

She was humming a nameless feline melody when she heard the twig snap. She didn't move or open her eyes—she didn't have to. A deep breath and a taste of the air told her who approached long before he entered the little clearing and called her name.

"Sarah that could only be you." His voice was warm, like the sun she was enjoying.

She was feeling especially languid after her meal and she yawned and stretched but didn't get up as she opened her eyes.

The sun danced off his exposed skin making it flash and sparkle like ten million diamonds. She wished she could smile, but still she didn't move.

"Sarah, everyone's looking for you." Relief ebbed and flowed through his musical voice.

"_Well tell them you found me and I'm fine." _She continued to purr contentedly as she projected her answer. She rested her head on one huge forepaw and closed her eyes again.

"You father won't be happy unless I bring you back to Billy Black's with me." She could hear the nervousness now. Yes, it was still there in his voice, just like before.

"_Not until I can phase back," _she insisted.

"Billy said that could take several days, little love," Ben answered. "Your parents are very worried about you . . . and so am I. Come back with me, please."

"_No," _she growled as she projected the thought. _"I won't have them seeing me like this!"_

"It's a bit late for that." Piano keys rang in her ears and she opened her eyes in time to watch Papa, Esme and Edward enter the clearing.

"_Go away!" _she projected to all four of them at once.

She closed her eyes and waited for them to leave. No one moved and no one spoke for a long time. She felt like bounding off into the trees but her guess was that they would follow her.

"You really are the most beautiful lioness I think I've ever seen." Esme cooed softly. "Carlisle has taken me on safari many times but nothing compares to you."

Sarah opened her eyes and raised her head as she regarded her mother. _"You really think so Mama?"_

"I've always thought you to be very beautiful Kitten." She watched her mother smile as she took several step towards her rocky perch. Deep abiding love burned in Esme's honey-colored eyes, a mother's love.

Sarah stood to her feet and instantly she noticed her father tense; she could smell his fear. Her mother, however, stood unflinching. In fact, she took several more steps in her direction.

Slowly she began picking her way down the rocks until she was standing on level ground in the tall grass.

She moved toward her mother cautiously. This was for her father's and not her mother's sake. Esme was calm and welcoming but Papa was still apprehensive. Did he think she was going to attack and eat her own mother?

"Of course not," Edward answered. "This is just a little awkward for him, that's all."

Awkward for him, she mused. How did he think she felt?

She continued to approach slowly until she was directly in front of her mother. Esme looked down at her with love-filled eyes as she held out her hand. Primal feline urges stirred deep with in her. She butted the underside of her mother's out stretched hand with the top of her massive head. Esme responded to her gesture by stroking her. Sarah instincts rose up again and she rubbed the whole length of her body against her mother's legs. A loud purr resonated deep in her chest and she twined her tail around her mother's waist in a sort of hug.

Soon her father, brother and mate joined in too, all of them were scratching, petting and stroking her affectionately, as if she were a giant house cat.

"You really are amazing honey," her father whispered, love exuding from every syllable. "My most beautiful and amazing little Sarah."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**Footnote: **_Most of this chapter, as well as the last one, was composed to music by the artist Lebo M from his album, Rhythm of the Pride-lands: Music Inspired by Disney's The Lion King. Favorite tracks, _He Lives in You_, _Busa_, and _Lea Halalela_

_Lioness Hunt _wasn't on this album but I found it on Playlist and really liked it too.

Yes, Sarah resembles an African lioness and not a cougar, sorry. As a picture-thinker once an image solidifies in my mind it's hard to change. Her inner lion showed up in my head looking like Asland, so I had to keep to my visual theme.

By the way, in case you were wondering, I am _owned _by four cats; Junior, Tea Tiger, Honey, and Miss Kitty.


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: **I don't own Twilight!

Chapter 10

**Origin**

By the time they reached Billy Black's house, the clouds had thickened again. Sarah sniffed the air; she could taste the coming rain. Before much longer the fat wet drops would start to fall, but the storm itself wouldn't roll in until nightfall. It would be a good night to be curled somewhere warm and dry.

She was nervous when they broke from the trees into the small open pasture. While the land might once have yielded abundant crops, only weeds and wild flowers grew there now. Her alert ears picked up the scurrying of field mice and the lazy drone of bees as they moved from flower to flower.

Her HD vision easily made out the hard packed gravel road that ran along the far side of the pasture. A tumbled down barbed wire fence made a halfhearted attempt to separate the pasture from the road. Beyond the ribbon of packed gravel, a lonely house squatted amid spruce trees and knee-high grass. It looked sad sitting there all alone, huddled like an old beggar against the elements and the ever-encroaching forest. In spite of its less than stately appearance, an aura of warmth and love radiated from the little red wood frame building. This was Billy's house.

The front yard of the house was a beehive of activity. If she didn't know they were all waiting for her arrival, she would have thought it was a birthday party or a family reunion. The rest of her siblings were there, gathered in a small knot slightly apart from the larger mob, only Nessie and Jacob and one or two others joined them. She could sense the uneasiness that her family's presence seemed to cause.

The rest of the milling mass consisted of native Quileute. They hovered around a central figure in a wheelchair, a revered elder by the way they treated him. Even at a distance, Sarah could feel his power; it rippled through the air as it surged and pulsed like the steady beat of the dancing drums. For an odd moment, she thought she could almost hear the sound of her uncle's voice chanting a medicine song. She shook her head to clear the sensation.

She approached the elder reverently as she scoured her brain for all the protocols and honorific addresses her uncle had taught her. They were stored deep in her memory, kept on a high back shelf, because she doubted she would ever need them.

She heard his voice clearly within her.

"_Remember. If you should ever find yourself standing before the council fires of another Nation, you are their honored guest. Stand with the pride that comes from knowing who you are and where you come from._

_Remember that you not only represent yourself and your family but also your People and your ancestors. _

_Be respectful at all times, show proper deference to the elders, and always honor your host. _

_Speak with wisdom or say nothing at all, it is better to be silent and thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt." _

When she was only a few paces from his wheelchair, she lowered her head, casting her gaze to the ground and dropped her shoulders in an effort to bow.

"_Venerated Elder," _she projected softly into his mind. _"This humble daughter thanks you for your warm welcome." _

Laughter rolled like thunder and shook Billy so hard Sarah was afraid he would fall out of his wheelchair.

"Well," the elder began when he was composed again. "While it's nice to have someone show me the respect I deserve for a change," he glared playfully at Jacob, "you can cut all that _Venerated Elder _crap. No one has used that stuff since . . . well for a very long time. Who taught you all that mess anyway?"

"_My uncle," _she answered. "_Hezekiah Fisher." _

She watched him rub his chin thoughtfully. "I know the last name, but I'm not familiar with the first. What was his father's name?"

"_Nathaniel Fisher was my grandfather," _she answered with a certain amount of pride in her projected voice, _"and my great grandfather was Joshua Fisher." _

Admiration lit his cinnamon eyes and his smile widened. "Little sister, you come from a very old and powerful family." He turned his gaze to Carlisle. "You need to treat this one with great care. Her power, coupled with being a blood . . . I mean a vampire, could prove to be a dangerous thing in the wrong hands."

Before her father could answer, the sky opened up and the rain began.

* * * *

Sarah lay curled on Billy's front porch watching the rain. Lightning danced against the blue-black backdrop of the night sky. The sight of it fascinated her. Fifteen years had passed since she last watched Mother Nature's fireworks.

The elder had thoughtfully provided her with an old blanket to rest on. She didn't need it but she appreciated the gesture of kindness. She was welcome in the house but the tiny living room was already packed. Mama, Papa, and her siblings gathered with Nessie, Jacob and a young Quileute named Seth, listening to Billy tell stories about her family. It seemed her mother's people were quite well known.

Many of the stories he told she had heard before, but a few were new. Still others were familiar to her but Billy told them from a new perspective. To these new ones she listened with keen interest.

The elder explained that, like the Quileute shape-shifters, Sarah's ancestors developed the gift to defend their people in times of extreme danger. Over time, the skill was lost as the people assimilated into the surrounding cultures and communities. Her great grandfather and grandfather were the last great shape-shifters among her people and her family. Until now that is. A Choctaw lion, or panther as Billy called her, had not existed in a long time.

The screen door opened and closed. She knew without looking that it was Papa. She recognized his footsteps even as she tasted his scent. The anxious look he had been wearing since he and Mama first found her among the rocks had slackened some.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. "Esme thinks perhaps you should come inside now."

"_I'm fine."_ She split the focus of her hearing so that she could continue listing to Billy while she talked to her father. "_I prefer it out here, the night is soothing."_

He took a seat in one of the white plastic chairs on Billy's front porch. "I agree the night is wonderfully soothing. Throughout most of my life, I lived almost exclusively as a creature of the night."

She continued to listen and watch the rain. "_I'm sorry I ran off Papa."_

"Your apology is unnecessary Sarah, I understand." He sighed. "Put into your position, I don't know if I would have reacted any differently."

Inside she smiled. They sat like that in silence for a long time, father and daughter enjoying each other's company and the soothing balm of the stormy night.

* * * *

Carlisle watched his daughter resting comfortably on the worn quilt. Every flash of lighting illuminated her muscular feline form in vivid detail. Like the Quileute wolves, Sarah was much larger than an ordinary lion. He had been shocked at his first sight of her. Ben's description over the phone had not prepared him at all for the reality of what he saw.

To his shame, he hadn't reacted well when he first caught sight of her. In his mind, he knew this was his beloved Sarah but his instincts told him this was a dangerous enemy. When Esme started toward the rocks to greet her, it took every ounce of his discipline not to try to stop her, not to step protectively between his mate and the dangerous beast on the rocks. Even now, his stomach churned with self-loathing as, on some level, his consciousness referred to his lovely daughter as a beast.

She begged his forgiveness for running off but how could he blame her? Had they not reacted to her in precisely the way she feared they would? Only Esme offered her the instant and unconditional acceptance she so desperately needed. If he lived to see the end of days, he promised to himself, he would find a way to make things up to her for his failings as a father.

While the paternal part of his mind wrestled with his feeling of love and regret, the part of him that was Carlisle the doctor and man of modern science pondered other issues. He always believed it was impossible for a shape-shifter to undergo the transformation. As far as he knew, their unique genetics made them immune to the effects of venom. If by some odd fluke they did manage to be turned, he was sure they would lose their shape-shifting ability. In order to shape shift, one needed the flexibility of change and that was something that vampires didn't possess.

Sarah seemed to be breaking all the rules. Her existence was flying in the face of every notion he held about vampirism. That was a good thing, for far too long his research had suffered the stagnating effects of sameness. Maybe Sarah was the godsend he had been looking for all these years.

His scowl turned into a smile as he looked at her with fresh eyes.

"Honey," he began softly. Given the raw nature of her emotional state, he would have to broach this subject with care. "Would you mind terribly if I examined you?"

She turned from watching the rain to fix him with her amber eyes. _"Examine me?"_ Questioning filled her mind voice.

"Yes.," he went on, continuing to choose his words carefully. "You're unique Sarah, and I'd like to gather some data on you in your current state. You've no idea how. . ."

"_I'm not a science fair project!"_ she interrupted him. Her mind voice rang with a hurt growl inside his head.

"Of course you're not." He soothed. Mentally he kicked himself for not being more sensitive. His clinical, analytical side had gotten the better of him. "You're my daughter and I love you, I just . . . well I . . ."

He allowed his words to trail off. He was in a hole now and there was no use digging it any deeper. A friend once told him long ago that the only difference between a ditch and a grave was that a ditch was a grave with the two ends knocked out. In order to patch thing up with Sarah he was going to have to turn his grave into a ditch and then build a bridge across it.

"Did I ever tell you why I went into medicine?" As he asked, the lighting flared, illuminating her as she made herself more comfortable on the quilt.

"_No, but I assumed it was to help people."_

"Yes you're right; my motives have always been altruistic. I hoped, in some small way, that by helping humans I might atone for the sins of my brethren. Somewhere in the world, at this very moment, a human is dying to feed one of our kind. If I can manage to save one life, then it seems to me that I've restored the balance."

She didn't reply so he continued. "But there is another reason." He paused and watched as she looked up at him. "When I first woke to my new life, I was appalled at what I'd become. I quickly became despondent and I continued to suffer even after I discovered my unusual diet. It was successful and I could live and manage my thirst without harming humans, but I was lacking something . . . I was lacking a purpose.

"_There is a time for everything, and a season for every purpose under Heaven, _Ecclesiastes, chapter 3, verse one. My father was a minister and he preached many a sermon from that line of scripture."

He took a few brief moments to refocus his train of thought. "Life doesn't exist simply for life's sake Sarah, the universe doesn't waste it's time and resources on frivolity.

"Everything from the largest mammal to the smallest single celled organism has a reason for its existence. In an effort to relieve my despondency and find meaning and purpose for my life, I went into the medical field. That decision opened the door to another quest, one for the deeper meaning of our existence as a whole.

"In the middle of the 1800s, Darwin published his earth shattering work On the Origin of the Species. While I don't completely agree with the theory that evolution is the absolute and only model of the origin of life, it did get me to thinking. Where did we come from? How did the first vampire come into existence? To what higher purpose, if any, are we called, or were we simply put here as hunting machines to decrease the excess human population?

"I've been working to answer those questions for most of my life and, while I've discovered many exciting things, the real answers still elude me."

He paused again, this time to give his words a chance to soak in before he asked the all-important question. "It was my hope that perhaps you could help me?"

"_How?"_ Her mind voice held fascination in it now.

"Well, and please don't take this the wrong way, but you are an anomaly Sarah." He stopped and waited for her to explode. When she remained calm he continued, cautiously. "If I ran an experiment the exact same way a hundred times and got exactly the same results each time, then I've managed to prove consistency but little else. If, however, I ran that same experiment for the one hundred and first time and got drastically different results . . . well, that's where real discovery begins. The greatest intuitive leaps of history didn't come from the drudgery of repeated sameness but rather from the brilliant sparks of random difference."

He watched her rest her massive head on one of her huge paws. She was thinking he had been around her long enough to read it.

"_You think I'm the answer to your questions . . . you think I'm . . . Eve."_

He found himself chuckling. "No. I don't think you're Eve. However, our genesis had to be an anomaly too. All vampires have two things in common: one, they were once human and two, they were bitten by a vampire and survived to endure the transformation. That could only mean that our Adam or Eve had to have been a human and carried some mutation in their human DNA. Because you're different it's possible your genetics might be more primitive and therefore more closely resemble our origins."

She was quiet for a time and Carlisle feared her silence meant she was going to reject his request. He wouldn't force her to submit; if she refused that was her choice.

"_I think you're wrong,"_ her voice in his mind sounded just a little smug. _"I think there's another answer."_

"Really?" This was a surprise. "And prithee may I ask what your theory is?"

"_Oh it's simplicity itself. I don't know why you've been working so hard_." There was teasing in the tone of her thoughts and he knew instantly she had set him up. _"We're descended from a race of space faring vampire aliens that crash landed here. It fits perfectly if you think about it. My theory explains both the mass extinction of the dinosaurs and the origins of vampires."_

He found himself laughing uncontrollably. Only Sarah could concoct such a wild story and then tell it with a straight mental face. Alien vampires indeed.


	12. Chapter 12

Note: I don't own Twilight!!!

Chapter 11

**Daddy's Little Girl**

Sarah sat on the small table in her father's laboratory. She listened to him as he moved about and gathered what equipment he would need to take another venom sample. Only a few ounces of concentrated venom at a time were available for collection from the venom glands in the roof of her mouth.

With one nervous hand, she groped the table's metal surface. The comfort that she was seeking found her first as Ben wrapped his hand around hers. After two days at Billy's house, she finally settled down enough to phase back. Unfortunately, the change plunged her back into the world of black velvet. It seemed she could only see in her shape-shifted form. This disappointed her greatly, and her parents spent several hours counseling and reassuring her.

Ben, who was forced by his thirst to leave and hunt shortly after their arrival at Billy's, returned to find her _normal _again. She didn't need to see his face to tell he was relieved. Witnessing her shape-shifting and seeing her in her lion form caused him obvious distress.

She heard her father's footfalls as he approached and she tensed. Ben gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Relax, Sarah," he soothed. Though the notes of his voice were paternal, she imagined the tone was similar to the one he used with anxious patients at the hospital. "Open your mouth nice and wide for me and tip your head all the way back."

She knew what was coming and she didn't like it. While the collection process didn't hurt, it wasn't very comfortable either. Memories of the dentist's office danced through her imagination and she fought to push them back.

Venom collection was a far simpler task than taking _blood _samples had been when she was in her lion form. Carlisle had to use the largest gauge needle in his bag and she remembered the pain of it as it pierced her thick lion hide. The fluid he pulled from her foreleg was so dark it looked almost black and it was as thick as molasses. To her father's further astonishment, in her shape-shifted form, she had a nearly imperceptible heartbeat.

"Come on, honey," her father cajoled. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner Ben can take you hunting."

Her thirst flared in her throat suddenly at the mention of hunting. The samples needed to be taken before she hunted so that they wouldn't be contaminated. It also helped that her thirst had the buds at the base of the venom glands full and ready to gush out at the smell of her next meal. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth.

She whimpered softly as the rustling of his clothes told her he was moving closer. His movement stirred the air just enough that it illuminated his hands and the syringe he held in blazing golden light against her velvet vision.

"Does it hurt?" Ben's saxophone voice played soft notes of concern.

"No," her father assured him. "I've done this on myself and every member of my family numerous times. It's completely painless."

"Then why is she so anxious?"

"She's just prone to nervousness I guess," he dismissed. "Be very still, Sarah."

She could feel the thin metal catheter as her father carefully treaded it into the opening of her right venom duct. There were two of these ballpoint-sized openings in the roof of her mouth, situated just behind her canine teeth. The ducts secreted venom whenever she was thirsty, when her senses were stimulated by the presence of prey, and during the act of feeding.

"_It tickles," _she projected to both of them at once. It wasn't the pleasant sort of tickling that made you want to laugh, rather the kind that made you want to shudder.

The first time he collected a sample, she wasn't thirsty at all. Her father had to massage the two jellybean-shaped organs in the roof of her mouth with his fingers, simulating oral contact during feeding, until the venom starting flowing. That's when she discovered she was ticklish. The sensation made her shudder so violently that she nearly bit her father's fingers off.

"Bear with me just a little longer, honey, I'm almost done," her father cooed in his doctor's voice.

"How much will you take?" Ben asked. His voice sounded a little squeamish as he squeezed her hand again.

"I only milk one duct at a collection," he answered as he withdrew the catheter. "That leaves her an ample supply for hunting and feeding." He patted her shoulder gently. "All done. You were very tolerant Sarah, thank you."

She rubbed the roof of her mouth with her tongue in an effort to clear the odd medical taste. "What does it look like?"

She had always wondered what her venom looked like. It had an acid smell to it and tasted just slightly bitter, like unsweetened lemonade. She assumed the acidic quality of it was the reason why her thirst burned.

"It's a thin and transparent liquid," she heard him answer as he moved about the lab, "with just the faintest yellow tint to it. As you age, the yellow color will deepen until it's a rich shade of amber."

"Am I to assume," Ben was more relaxed now that the collection was over, "that the deeper the color, the more potent the venom?"

"Very good Benjamin." Enthusiasm echoed in the bells of her father's voice. "That's correct. Because younger vampires have weaker venom, it requires more of it to turn a human. I'm not at all sure a newborn like Sarah could create another newborn and, at any rate, it would be highly inadvisable for her to try."

Sarah did not intend to create anything beyond sculptures and pots in clay. She remembered the fiery agony of her transformation and couldn't imagine inflicting that much suffering on anyone.

Ben was helping her off the table when she heard the footsteps coming down the basement stairs. She recognized them as belonging to Rose. When her sister knocked softly at the lab door and then spoke, Sarah wasn't surprised.

"FedEx just brought this for you." The pitch of the violin in her voice was a bit distressed. Sarah wondered why.

She listened as Papa crossed the room. Like everyone else, he tried to move at human speed whenever she was around so that she could follow his movements with her ears. It wasn't necessary, and she had said as much, but the family insisted. Emmett even joked that it was good practice for them.

There was the sound of ripping cardboard as her father opened the envelope, then the rustling of paper as he unfolded the letter. The next thing she knew, her delicate ears were accosted by Papa's menacing growl and a string of curses coming from his mouth that made her want to cover her ears. She had no idea her papa knew so many profane words, or that he could string them together so poetically.

"Carlisle." Ben's voice expressed the shock she was feeling. "Mind your language, there are ladies present."

Once a Knight, always a Knight, she thought to herself, and she waited for an explanation.

Papa said nothing, but the letter and envelope clattered onto the table next to her. She could make out her father's disgusted grunt as he kicked what sounded like the trash can. The heat of his rage radiated off him like a bad odor but he said nothing.

She listened as Ben picked up the letter. Seconds ticked past like years as he read it for himself.

"Light of Heaven! Carlisle, you've been summoned." The shock in Ben's voice matched the intensity of her father's anger.

Sarah was confused, summoned by whom and for what? "Ben, I thought you took care of Papa's legal issues before we left Louisiana."

Ben wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head before answering. "I wish this were as simple as a court case, Sarah. I could make a few phone calls, bribe a few judges, and have the whole matter forgotten before lunch. But not this."

"It's a Volturi summons." Her father informed her. The bells in his voice were pensive. "Rose, tell Esme to have everyone gathered in the dining room in an hour for Council. Ben, you'll stay, of course. This involves Sarah and therefore you."

* * * *

Carlisle stood at the top of the basement stairs; beyond the closed door, he could hear the murmured whispers of his waiting family. For the first time in his life as a father and the leader of his family, he was reluctant to face them. He didn't want to meet their questioning gazes, didn't want to feel the heavy burden of their expectations. All he really wanted at that moment was to build a mighty wall as high as heaven around all that he cared about and hunker down behind it like a frightened child.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. As much as he wanted to avoid this, it couldn't be put off. Esme and Sarah would be the most difficult to deal with. He hoped that Ben would help ease things for his daughter, which would leave him dealing with his devastated mate. Pain and regret twisted in his chest, it wasn't supposed to end like this.

He steeled himself for the worst as he entered the dining room. As expected, all eyes were fixed on him. A part of him wanted to shout at them to stop staring. Another part wanted to run off into the forest and hide there until forever came. Indecision was a new and frustrating emotion for him. Just when he thought he couldn't take it any more his eyes locked with Edward's. Of course he knew, he always knew. Edward would make a good leader; he would keep the family together and safe.

His oldest son nodded just slightly, the faintest of reassurances as he took a deep breath and prepared to speak. He handed the Volturi letter along with some other papers and several legal documents to his son and then began.

"As you probably know by now, Aro has sent a summons." He swallowed hard and tried not to look into Esme's eyes. "He _wishes_ to see the following: Esme, Sarah, Edward, Bella and myself. It seems, however, that he made a mistake in his wording of the letter and his summons only _demands _me."

Alice had her cell phone and credit card out faster than he could blink. "Let's see, we need ten tickets to Italy, I'm assuming first class, what airline and how soon? With that many I think I can manage to finagle a group discount."

He looked sadly in her direction. Could she not see, or was she just trying to be hopeful. "Just one ticket Alice." He tried to smile but he feared the effort was pointless. "I've already booked it . . . I'm going alone."

"Book a second ticket, Alice, any airline you can manage." Esme's voice was the coldest he had ever heard it. "It seems my husband has forgotten our marriage vows, _till_ _death do us part_."

Though her face was placid, her eyes burned with honey colored fire.

"Don't bother Alice," Carlisle said with a tired sigh. "The credit card will be declined. I was afraid this might be your reaction so I took the liberty of freezing all our accounts for the next seven days. I'm sure there's enough petty cash in the house to tide you over in the meantime."

He looked down at Esme, sadness and anger played in alternating waves across her beautiful face. "I'm sorry my love, this is the way it must be."

He left the room hastily and retreated to the solitude of his study. As a matter of practice he never locked his study door, preferring to leave it open to his family. Tonight he broke with that tradition. If he was going to maintain his resolve, he could not look into their pain-filled faces. He settled into his desk chair and nearly jumped out of it again as the loud roaring of a lion made the whole house shake.

He sighed. Before the night was over, he knew he would have to deal with the two people in his family who loved him more than life itself, his beautiful and adoring mate Esme and his fiercely loyal daughter Sarah.

* * * *

She paced from one end of the long front porch to the other. Every muscle in her feline body was bunched and ready to pounce. Irritation kept a constant growl in her throat and made her thick tail lash from side to side like a tawny fur- covered whip. She paused her agitated pacing only long enough to stifle another roar. She knew exactly how those caged animals at the Audubon Zoo felt.

She wanted to bite, tear, and rip at something until there was nothing left of it but minuscule pieces. So keen was her irritation that her mother had quietly asked Ben to take her out onto the porch before she finished shredding the sofa. Bits of cloth and foam cushion still clung between her claws. She couldn't understand what the fuss was about, the sofa was beyond repair now anyway. A few more good paw swipes and a bite or two wouldn't make that much difference one way or the other.

Moreover, how did the sofa fit into the grander scheme of things anyway? She heard her siblings talking in hushed sad tones and she felt her father's intentions. By virtue of a stupid technicality, he was going to face his enemies alone . . . he was going to face his death alone. She didn't have to be Alice and have visions to see that. He was going to Italy and he wasn't coming back.

That thought made a fresh wave of pain swell in her chest and threaten to steal her breath away. She stopped at the end of the porch, took a deep breath and held it but, try as she might, this time the roar would not be stopped. A defining sound rang into the moonless night, bouncing off the trees and everything else in its path. The echo of it eventually died away as did the shaking of the porch beneath her paws. Only the pain in her heart remained.

The front door opened and closed, she knew who it was without looking. She wasn't sure whether to expect a reprimand for her outbursts or fatherly counsel. Her irritation increased.

"Aw, Sarah," the bells tolled somberly. "Come on, honey, don't be like that."

She continued to stare out into the night. He'd tried the same line on Mama not long ago and in response, Sarah heard the crash of a porcelain vase against a wall. She had nothing to throw and no hands to throw it with. A frustrated growl rumbled deep in her chest.

"Please Sarah, as I tried to explain to your mother," his plea sounded just a little tired, "this is for the best. Everything is going to be just fine, you'll see." He paused briefly. "Now, what can Papa bring back for his little girl from Italy?"

His last phrase was more than she could stand. Her anger and pain broke through the fragile dam she'd built to contain it and flooded every cell of her body. She turned suddenly on her haunches and raced across the porch. Even the look of shock and horror on her father's face wasn't enough to stop her. Her paws left the floorboards and she sailed through the air for a few short moments before she slammed into her father's body. Her weight and momentum took them to the ground together and they tumbled until they rolled off the end of the porch and onto the lawn. When they finally stopped, Sarah was on top of him with her massive forepaws pinning her papa's shoulders against the damp earth.

Her mind raced with a thousand angry, hurt and confused thoughts but she couldn't grab hold of any one of them long enough to project it. In desperation, she lowered her tawny muzzle until her stiff white whiskers were touching her father's face, opened her mouth, and bellowed out the loudest roar imaginable.

There was the slamming of the front door and a cavalcade of feet tromped across the porch as her family came to see the cause of the commotion. Ben and Edward were off the porch in an instant and they would have hauled her off her father if he hadn't stopped them.

"It's OK," he told them calmly. "She needs to get this out of her system. Talk to me, Sarah, let it all out. I'm ready."

Her confused thoughts continued to race and she couldn't seem to find the words to express them. She lowered her head again until her nose leather rested against the end of his nose. She looked deep into his honey gold eyes, seeking some spark to focus her rage but she found only love and concern in their depths

"_Have you grown so tired of your existence that you want to die, Carlisle Cullen? Then let me oblige you." _She snarled and a growl rumbled in her throat as she projected the thought. _"You don't have to waste a trip across the Atlantic for that!" _

"You don't really want to kill me, Sarah," he replied kindly, a sad smile curled his lips. "Do you, honey?"

She roared again but this time not so loudly.

"Come on Sarah, let it out," he goaded her gently. "I'm right here, honey, give it to me with both barrels."

"Fifty bucks says she bites Carlisle's head off and uses it for a cat toy," Emmett joked as he nudged Jasper in the ribs.

"You're on," Jasper agreed, and she heard them shake hands.

"Quiet, both of you," he cautioned, and then he turned back to his daughter. "Come on Sarah, let's have it. What's got you worked up beyond words?"

She focused on the writhing mass of thoughts inside her. They were like so many fish in a barrel, rising to the surface and then diving to the bottom again before she could catch hold of one. She concentrated, watching the wriggling thoughts until the biggest and ugliest of them found its way to the surface. With quick mental hands, she seized hold of it and she instantly regretted it. Old pain filled her as if the events that caused it had occurred only yesterday.

"_Take, take, and take from Sarah!" _She snarled. _"The angry universe has done nothing but take from me, it's stolen everything I ever loved and left me all alone. Until now."_

"Good Sarah, that's it," he encouraged. "But you're not done yet, let's have all of it."

"_I found a new family, they love me and I love them. I have a Mama and a Papa and brothers and sisters and I feel whole again, whole for the first time since I was eight."_

"_Now the angry universe wants to take that away, too. Well I'm tired of it; no one is taking anything from Sarah ever again. I won't let them kill you, Father, if they want you they're going to have to go through me first." _A constant growl built in her throat until it became another roar. _"I'll take them apart one at a time, I don't care how many of them there are. No one is taking Sarah's family from her, ever!" _

He smiled up at her affectionately and reached up with one hand to scratch her ear. "Good, Sarah, now isn't that better."

"_Didn't you hear me? I said they're not taking you from me!"_

"Of course I heard you, honey, you practically drilled every word into my head." He continued to smile and stroke her fur. "I understand how you feel but now I want you to hear me out . . . OK?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"I have my reasons for making this trip alone," he began. "This goes for all of you, so pay attention." He turned his focus back to Sarah, their eyes locked and it felt as though he was speaking only to her. "Billy was right about you, Sarah. Your power as a shape-shifter combined with all your other talents and the fact that you're a vampire could make you very dangerous in the wrong hands. If Aro got a hold of you, he would turn you into a weapon the likes of which our kind has never known. It's best if I keep you as far away from the Volturi as possible."

"_But Father . . ."_

"Shush, let me finish, honey." He took a breath and continued. "If I were to take any one of you with me, I instantly offer Aro and the Volturi a hostage to use as leverage to force me into their will. Do you think that there is anything I wouldn't do for any of you? I would move heaven and earth for each and every one of you."

"_But Papa, he'll kill you."_

"You've been listening to you siblings' dark murmurings, haven't you?" He dismissed her anxiety as if it were nothing more serious than a speck of dust. "He won't kill me, that would be an ill-conceived move. The last thing Aro wants is an all out war with my coven. I have too many allies who would rally to our cause and Aro has too many sleeping enemies looking for a reason to rise up against him. The Volturi aren't stupid, they know it would fracture our world."

"_I feel like you're not coming back."_

"Of course I'm coming back, why wouldn't I?" he dismissed her again. "I've every reason to. I have a beautiful wife, an amazing family, my job, not to mention my research." He paused briefly and fixed her in his gaze again. "And then there's the matter of my youngest daughter's pending nuptials. Someone has to make sure Alice doesn't spend us into the poor house planning your wedding. And of course, if I'm not here, who would give away daddy's little girl?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Note:** I don't own Twilight!!

Chapter 12

**Mission Impossible**

Sarah lay on the front porch watching a blue jay harass a squirrel that ventured too close to her nest. Papa had left the house in the gray hours before dawn. He bade each of them farewell before leaving.

"Be a good girl, Sarah," he told her as he patted her head. "And mind your mother. I'll be home before you know it."

That was almost two hours ago. The boys accompanied him to the airport, supposedly to bring his car back, but she was suspicious. It didn't make sense really, if he planned to return at the end of the week, why not leave the car in long-term parking. She knew it was more than that; he wanted to give them last minute instructions, especially Edward. He was the heir apparent to the Cullen throne.

Her insides knotted up every time she thought about the wrongness of what everyone was just letting happen. Only Esme seemed to share her sense of indignation. No matter how much reassuring her father gave her, she knew he wasn't coming back. He was going away to die and no one cared.

She got up from her place on the porch and headed for the door. With one deft claw, she managed to pry the screen open and slip inside. Ben was in the living room, he was the only male in the house. He sat with Bella, Alice, and Rose, talking in soft tones. Alice perked up when she entered the house. Did she know what was on her mind already?

Sarah only regarded her psychic sister for a moment before bounding up the stairs. It was the queen she wished to speak to right now, and no one else. Carefully she scratched at the closed bedroom door.

"Not now," the flutes in her mother's voice played soft and sad.

"_Mama it's me, please open the door."_

There was a long pause before the door opened. Her mother looked haggard and somehow Sarah knew that it wasn't normal for her.

"Come in, Kitten," she invited with a sigh.

Sarah entered the room and heard her mother close the door behind her. The air in the bedroom was saturated with a mixture of her parents' scent. The strong smell of her father made the pain in her chest flare. How could she stand it in here, it would drive her insane with grief.

"What is it, Kitten?" her mother asked tiredly as she crossed the room and sat down on the bed.

Sarah sat on the floor and tried her best to look unthreatening. _"Are we really just going to sit around and pretend every thing's a-ok? Are we going to do absolutely nothing while Papa goes off to . . .?"_

"Enough, Sarah," Esme interrupted her. "While I share your sentiments, there is very little we can do. Carlisle froze all our accounts and even if he hadn't, Edward, Jasper, and Emmett would never let us go after him. It really is quite impossible."

"_Maybe not," _Sarah purred.

Esme's eyebrows arched in interest. "Go on."

"_I have a personal credit card tied to the fortune Skeeter and Vincent left me," _she began, her continued purr increased in volume. _"Ben tells me that I'm loaded. According to him, I have enough money in that account to buy a small country. I should think that would be more than enough to cover a couple of airline tickets and other . . . travel essentials." _

Her mother's haggard look softened a little and she attempted a smile. "Thank you, Kitten. I appreciate the offer but . . . Edward and the others wouldn't allow it. Carlisle even hid the keys to every car but his Mercedes and I'm sure Edward will guard that with his life."

"_Not every car, I have the keys to Carmen in my delicates drawer." _she purred with satisfaction. _"Next excuse," _she hummed.

"You're serious about this." For the first time since her father announced he was going alone, Sarah saw hope in her mother's eyes.

"_As a heart attack," _she growled low in her throat to punctuate her meaning. _"One way or another, with or without you, I'm going after Papa."_

Her mother nodded and the expression in her eyes shifted from resignation to determination. "There's still the matter of Edward and the others."

"If you let us in," Alice's voice called through the closed door, "we might have a few ideas about that."

"Come in Alice," Esme laughed softly. "It isn't locked."

Alice smiled at Sarah and patted her head before settling on the floor beside her. "You're not honestly surprised are you? The minute you made up your mind about going, I knew it. So," Sarah watched Alice look around at her fellow conspirators. "It's espionage, is it? Well let's get to planning before the others get back."

Ben, Alice, Rose, and Bella gathered around Esme and Sarah, planning the rescue mission. They all intended to go, but keeping it a secret from Edward was going to be the tricky part.

"He can't read Bella at all so she will be safe around him," Alice schemed. "Sarah can pull her thoughts in until they're too quiet for him to hear. Can you do that selectively?"

She nodded. _"I can leave general thought open to his examination, but pull others into sand grain mode."_

Sand grain mode was the way she envisioned her thought when she wanted them exclusive from Edward. She imagined them as being as tiny as a single grain of sand.

"Good. Now that leaves only Esme, Rose, Ben, and me."

"I have a hotel reservation at the Airport Sheraton, under an alias of course. Have Bella tell Edward I had to leave suddenly for Seattle on business." He smiled wickedly. "When your arrangements are made, call me and I'll meet you at the airport."

"I like the way you think Ben, very devious," Alice cooed. "Now that just leaves us three girls."

"_Nessie," _Sarah suggested. _"What if the three of you go visit her? Bella can tell Edward that you two thought it would be good for Esme if she got away; you know . . . a distraction for her anxiety. You could make all the travel arrangements from there too and not have to use the cell phone."_

Alice patted her tawny shoulders and looked deeply satisfied. "I'm proud of you little sister, my lessons are finally paying off."

In less than twenty minutes, everyone was outside in the driveway. Ben kissed the top of her furry head and whispered sweet words to her before getting in his Jaguar. She watched after him longingly as he drove away.

"Have you ever used this credit card before Sarah?" Alice asked.

"_No, but Ben activated it for me." _She turned to watch Alice unlock Carmen's driver's side door. _"All the password information is in the envelope with the card."_

Alice clutched the card against her chest as a look of pure ecstasy spread across her face. "Virgin plastic!" she squealed with excitement. "I promise I'll be gentle."

Esme laughed, it was a sound that warmed Sarah's heart. "Don't worry, Kitten. I'll keep an eye on her spending."

"_I'm not so much worried about the card as I am about Carmen," _she projected.

"Don't be," Alice scoffed as she climbed in and fastened her seatbelt. "With the Mother Superior here in the car, I doubt I'll get her above 45 miles an hour," she sighed. "A shame really, with the high performance racing package and _**nos**_ under the hood, I'll bet she can fly."

"Perhaps," Esme retorted as she settled into the front passenger's seat, "but for now, your pilot's license has been revoked. Normal highway speeds will suffice."

It was Sarah's turn to laugh, a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr. She stood next to Bella in the driveway as they watched them pull away.

* * * *

Not long after everyone left, Bella brought her a bundle clothes in an old shopping bag. She took it into the trees with her and, after phasing back into her regular form, she returned to the house. When Edward and the rest of her brothers returned home, she was settled at her table working. She picked up the distinctive sound of the Mercedes about a mile from the turn off and gave Bella the heads up. When her three brothers walked in the door, the academy award winning performance was well under way.

Lights. Camera. Action!

Sarah made sure any thoughts regarding their plans were in sand grain mode. The only thing Edward would hear was an ocean of grief and anger. She listened as Bella told the white lies regarding Esme and Ben to her husband and forced herself to think melancholy thoughts about being left alone. At one point the intensity of those feelings became so strong, she hurled a lump of clay at the wall and smiled with satisfaction as she heard it splat.

"That's not necessary Sarah," the piano keys cautioned. "I know you're upset, but making messes for Esme to clean up is just wrong. You owe her a new sofa as it is."

"Bite me!" she growled angrily. "Like you care, you didn't even try to stop him. You just let him go to. . ."

"Sarah." This time it was Bella, surprise rang through her harpsichord voice. "I'm sure Edward feels just as badly as you do . . . take it easy."

"It's ok Bella," Edward soothed his mate, "Carlisle warned me that she and Esme would be the most difficult to deal with." Then he turned his verbal focus to Sarah. "I hate to have to lower the boom on you Sarah, but I'm not like Carlisle, there are things I won't tolerate."

"Like I said, bite me!" she menaced again. "Papa told me to mind my mother; he didn't say a word about minding my arrogant brother."

She heard him sigh. It was a sad, tired sound.

"Where's Ben when I really need him?" He mumbled, and then a little louder he added "I'm going to the lab to prepare your treatment, Carlisle asked me to do it, so don't give me any guff about it."

She listened to his footsteps as he descended the basement stairs.

* * * *

The next morning while the boys were out hunting, Bella and Sarah departed for the airport. Bella left a note for Edward telling him they would be gone to Jacob's for the day. She couldn't find where her mate had hidden the keys to the Mercedes. Fortunately, Alice had taught Bella the fine art of grand theft auto. It amazed Sarah that the Mercedes wasn't locked but then again, she mused, who in their right mind would steal a car from a vampire.

Soon they were pulling out of the driveway and onto the main highway. Late the evening before, Sarah had insisted Edward take her hunting at the prearranged time set by Alice. While they were out, Alice called with the details of their flight arrangements. They would have to hurry, if they were going to meet their party at the airport on time. Neither one of them packed more than a couple of changes of clothes, their passports, some cash and a few other essential items into two small backpacks.

They parked the Mercedes in long-term parking. As they pulled into the lot, Bella spotted Carmen parked thoughtfully near the security station. There was one available space next to her and Bella pulled in right beside the candy-apple red '69 Mustang. Bella informed her that Jacob's homely Chevy pick-up was parked on the other side of Carmen and that Ben's Jaguar was just on the other side of the truck.

Sarah clung to Bella's elbow as she led her across the lot toward the terminal. Her backpack rested comfortably against her. All her essentials including her MP3 player, which she nearly forgot, were tucked inside. In her other hand, she clutched the new cane Papa had bought for her. It was one of those high tech ones made of space age material and very sensitive. The most distinctive feature about it though was the sterling silver medallion set into the handle cap; it bore the Cullen family crest. She was very proud of it and she smiled as she ran an errant finger over the design.

Inside the terminal, they quickly found the rest of the _"C-team_._" _Sarah tuned her ears, focusing her mental hearing to pick out the sound of her family's minds from the mass of humanity. To her surprise, not only did she detect Ben, Alice, Esme, and Rose but she also picked up several Quileute. The duplicity of their mental signature was hard to miss. There were five of them. She recognized Jacob and Seth but the other three were unknown to her.

"There you are, finally," Alice quipped. "I was beginning to wonder if you two were going to make it."

"We had trouble getting past Checkpoint Edward; he was unfashionably late to his morning hunt," Bella soothed.

"Do you think he suspects something dear?" Esme asked Bella softly.

"Not after Sarah's performance last night." She nudged Sarah's side playfully. "_Bite me_! Who tells a . . . well one of us to bite me? I thought Edward was going to turn purple."

"Alice, is he suspicious?" Esme inquired of her.

"No, Sarah and Bella gave a stellar performance," Alice assured her. "Oscar material girls, truly."

They checked in and made their way to the security screening area. Ben had taken over leading Sarah and she trotted confidently at his side. To her surprise the five Quileute were coming along too. They had a vested interest, Jacob explained, as Nessie only just found out she was pregnant. No one other than Dr. Carlisle Cullen would be good enough to care for her during her pregnancy and to deliver the baby.

The concourse was crowded as they made their way to the gate. She listened as the Quileute peeled away from the group to stop at one of the many small food vendors to tank up before the flight to New York. It seemed shape-shifters had overly aggressive metabolisms and they were always hungry.

Their flight would take them first from the small airport in Port Angeles to Seattle and then on to New York, then London, and finally to Rome. From there they would hop a small commuter plane to a town just south of Volterra. The village itself had no airport.

"How is Carlisle?" she heard Esme ask Alice.

"They still have him in a holding cell," Alice replied dryly. "Aro isn't sure what to do with him. He was really pissed when Carlisle showed up alone. Caius wanted to kill him instantly but the calmer heads of Aro and Marcus prevailed."

"Will they make a decision soon?" she asked. Sarah could hear the panic in her mother's voice.

"I don't know, but I'm about to stack the deck in our favor." The piccolos in Alice's voice played a confident tune.

She listened as her crafty sister pulled her cell phone from her pocket and flipped it open. There was the musical sound of a number being dialed.

"Hi, Siobhan, Alice here. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you and Liam doing and Maggie too?" Sarah listened as Alice walked a little ways from their group, for privacy she supposed. She tried to be good and not listen but with eavesdropping being so simple, she couldn't help it. She tuned her ears and raised the volume just a little.

"No, no, Siobhan. We don't need you and yours to come to Italy, believe me we have enough force to give Aro pause. Some of the wolves are coming with us that should make him practically wet his pants. You remember how he reacted the last time." Alice laughed and Sarah detected the sound of laughter on the other end of the line too. It sounded like the faint tinkling of a harp. "What we need is for you to use your gift to influence the outcome of our little mission. Keep the Volturi from killing Carlisle before we can get there and ensure a positive outcome for us. You know, no one gets hurt and everyone involved comes home safe."

Alice paused as she listened to something Siobhan was telling her. The sound of the harp, even muffled as it was, enchanted Sarah to no end.

"Well, let's see, there's Benjamin Wiseman, Carlisle's lawyer. I don't think you've met him. His mate and our newest sister, Sarah. I cannot wait for you to meet her, she's absolutely amazing. Then of course us girls, Esme, Bella, Rose, and myself. Of the Quileute there's Jacob, Seth, Collin, Brady and a new one named Devon. Got all that?"

Sarah listened to the harp play on the line while Alice was quiet.

"Yes of course. I'll give you a call from Heathrow and again when we arrive in Rome." Alice's voice was almost a purr. "Thanks for your help, you have no idea how much we appreciate it."

Not wanting Alice to know she was listening in, she asked Bella who Siobhan was.

"Naughty, naughty Sarah," Bella scolded in a laughing voice. "Siobhan is a long time friend of Carlisle's. She and her family live in Ireland. Her special gift gives a whole new meaning to the phrase _Luck of the Irish_; she can influence the outcome of events."

"Cool gift," Sarah whispered. "Between her and Alice, they could take Las Vegas by storm and _own it _in less than a week."

Bella chuckled. "Don't mention that idea to Alice please; I don't think she thought of it yet. Carlisle would have a cow."

* * * *

The non-stop flight from Seattle to New York took a little more than five hours. Sarah sat between Ben, by the window, and Alice, on the aisle. Their party, a supposed tour group, commanded a host of eleven seats in one section. Esme, Bella, and Rose sat in front of them and the Quileute were across the aisle. Sarah smiled as _The Ride of The Valkyries _played in her headphones. How fitting she mused, and mashed the replay button to hear the song again when it finished.

They had an hour and forty-five minute layover in New York. Alice and Rose were pissed because they couldn't do any shopping in the terminal's boutiques. Eventually, Sarah and her credit card came to their rescue when they insisted it would be good for their cover but only after they promised, in front of Esme, to pay her back.

The four sisters were walking together back towards their gate after their spree when Bella's phone rang.

"Oh crap, it's Edward." She murmured.

"Well, answer it," Alice instructed. "If you don't, he'll get suspicious."

Sarah listened as Bella answered her phone.

"Hi, honey, how was your morning?" Bella soothed.

Sarah hoped Edward couldn't hear the nervousness in the notes of the harpsichord as easily as she could. She turned the volume of her ears up so she could hear Edward's response clearly.

"Bella, where the hell are you?" His voice was calm but with a back note of annoyance.

"With Esme, Alice, Rose, and Sarah, why?" She paused briefly. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" There was a hard edge in his response. "I had Jasper swing by Nessie's to make sure you were alright . . . and to bring you the keys to the Mercedes. It seems you weren't there. In fact, Nessie was home alone. To her credit, she wouldn't tell Jasper where you went . . . in spite of his _efforts _to persuade her."

"Shopping at the mall," Alice breathed in a whisper. "And we're taking in a movie later, to cheer up Esme."

"Well of course we're not there love, Alice decided we should make a day of window shopping at the mall in Port Angeles." Bella had more confidence now and every word out of her mouth dripped with golden honey. "In fact, we plan on hanging around and catching a late movie."

"A movie." His voice was dry. "What are you going to see?"

"Oh, I don't know, whatever Esme wants to see," she went on. "Edward, love, you should see her, she's really broken up over Carlisle going off and we're trying to cheer her up."

Sarah heard Edward sigh, "Very well, but I wish you'd run these things by me first, Bella. I hate surprises. Call me when you're on your way home from the movie theater."

"Of course."

She hung up the phone and the four of them breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Did he buy that?" Bella asked, obviously directing the question at Alice.

"Yes, but not quite hook, line, and sinker, I'm afraid. Not your fault of course, Edward is just the suspicious type," she answered. "He's not bothered enough at this moment to make an issue of the matter . . . yet. When we get to Heathrow, we might want to consider calling him and confessing."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Note:**_ I don't own Twilight!!

Chapter 13

**Mustering For Battle**

After nearly seven and a half hours on a plane, Sarah was relieved to be on solid ground again. Ben led her as they made their way through customs. Because she was considered handicapped, she and Ben received expedited service. The whole group, thankfully, made it through the process unscathed and met up again at their departure gate. Alice erred on the side of caution, leaving layovers between flights in case of delays. They had a two hour wait before their flight to Rome.

Sarah snuggled next to Ben as they waited on one of the benches near the gate. In response, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. His strong presence was a welcome comfort as she continued to worry about her father. She was glad her mate decided to come; it would have been a difficult trip without him.

"How is Carlisle?" she heard her mother ask. The anxious pitch in the flutes of her mother's voice made her ache inside and she wanted to do anything and everything to make her mother's pain go away.

"So far so good," Alice replied, the tone of the piccolo guarded. "Siobhan must be working on it."

Suddenly, Sarah felt the familiar odd sensation at the nape of her neck and the tingle of electricity over her skin as her radar kicked in. Her whole body tensed and she automatically tuned her hearing.

"Little love?" Ben's voice was concerned in response to her sudden reaction.

"There are others," she whispered.

She reached for her mental tuning knob and scanned the stations, looking for the mental signature of vampires. Humans, she found, had flat, single dimensional minds while shape-shifters had a duplicity that mirrored their twin nature. Vampires, on the other hand, had minds that were like mammoth caverns and they rang with the same musical quality that their voices had. Before she could locate their exact presence, the sound of the harp from Alice's phone call filled her ears.

"There you are, we were afraid we'd missed you."

"Siobhan," she heard her mother greet the woman happily. The air from the ventilation duct overhead stirred a slight breeze and she saw her mother embracing a woman affectionately in blazing gold against the black velvet.

"How are you holding up, love?" the harps asked. She was truly concerned.

"As well as I can," her mother answered as they sat down together. "Thank you for your help, we weren't expecting you to come and meet us."

"It was Maggie's idea," she answered with a chuckle.

The sensation of her radar intensified just before a male voice with the sound of bagpipes in it filled her ears.

"You found them," the male seemed relieved. "Maggie and I were just about to call you." He paused for a moment and she could tell the sight of their group startled him.

"Have you told them the good news?" he continued when his composure returned.

"What news?" Bella asked.

"They've decided to come with us," Alice answered. Her sister's voice was less than thrilled. "Siobhan, really you shouldn't, it could be very dangerous."

"Is that so?" the harps played ruefully. "Have you no faith in me at all then?"

Before Alice could answer, Sarah's radar kicked into overdrive as she felt the presence of even more vampires. She must have looked very uncomfortable because Ben pulled her in even tighter against his side and whispered soft comfort into the top of her head. She counted the unfamiliar presences around her and they totaled six. Their party now numbered seventeen.

"Forgive our rudeness," the bagpipes played, "I should introduce our friends."

"His name is Liam," Bella whispered as she settled next to her. "He's Siobhan's mate. Though she hasn't spoken yet, there's a red-haired girl with him and her name is Maggie. They are the Irish family I told you about."

"This is Peter," the bagpipes continued, "and his lovely mate Gwinn. The handsome lad with them is Waymon. Their territory borders ours to the north. Once they heard about our quest, they decided to join us."

"I'm sorry," Esme sighed, and Sarah could hear reserve play through the flutes, "but you don't know us, why would you want to risk your lives for us?"

"That's easy enough," the other male answered. She guessed it was Peter and his voice was the melodic cello. "Birds of a feather must stick together. We follow your lifestyle. I'm a convert to it but Gwinn has always lived this way. Waymon just recently joined us; he's a newborn, only six months old.

"He and his twin sister, his birth sister I might add, were turned at the same time and abandoned. We found them when they were only a little over a month old, but by then it was too late. Corrah, his sister, managed to break a few rules and . . . well, Jane came calling. The poor thing didn't know any better but Jane wouldn't hear of it. You can guess what happened."

The sound of her mother's soft moan sent a shiver up her spine. Her mind drifted back to her father's story of Mikhail and Katrina. Seeking comfort, she buried herself even deeper in Ben's side. In response, he kissed her forehead and murmured to her.

"Do these Volturi not understand compassion?" she whispered for only her mate to hear.

"They do what they feel is necessary to protect our world," he whispered just as softly. "It can seem harsh, even cruel, but it is meant to protect the common good."

"How does killing Papa better the common good?" A low growl mixed in with her whisper.

She heard him laugh softly. "I never said it was _right,_ little love, nor did I say that I always agreed."

* * * *

Carlisle paced his "cell". Actually it was a very spacious room, the very room in fact that he had occupied long ago when he had lived with the Volturi. While much of the room remained the same, a few things had changed. Most notably the plasma screen TV mounted on the wall over the room's fireplace. It was a shame really, once a master piece by Caravaggio hung in its place. He had to admit, he preferred the painting.

Still, he found the remote and turned on the TV just for the distraction it provided. His thoughts were a mangled mess. Aro had been furious when Carlisle entered the audience chamber alone. He thought his life would end at that very moment as Caius bounded forward ready to set his body ablaze. Aro and Marcus stopped him, but just barely. That benevolent act, however, didn't keep Aro from letting Jane have a little fun with him during their interrogation.

The only reason he still had his life was because Aro hoped his coven . . . his family . . . would come after him. They couldn't, of course, he'd seen to that. He'd warned Edward to be very cautious. He was under strict orders to keep Sarah and Esme on extremely short leashes. In matters concerning him, mother and daughter were of one accord. When they put their heads together, he imagined they could be a very explosive combination.

His thoughts continued to revolve around his family. For possibly the hundredth time since he left home, he saw each face dance before the eyes of his mind. He missed them terribly and it made him ache deep inside. He had been sorely tempted to turn around and go back home more than once, but he knew he couldn't. He loved them all with every fiber of his being, and he knew this was the only way to keep them safe.

A knock at the door disturbed him from his thoughts.

"_Medico_," a voice called softly through the locked door.

"Enter." Why he needed to give his captors leave to enter was beyond him.

The door opened and Tobias came in carrying an armload of books. "The Masters thought you might enjoy some reading to pass the time. I see you have already found the remote for the television. I'm sorry; all the channels are in Italian."

Carlisle dismissed him with a wave and watched as he put down his load on a small table. Entertainment was a good sign, it meant indecision. Aro wasn't quite ready to kill him yet.

"The Masters wish to know if you are thirsty."

His thirst burned like fire in his throat. The summons came without warning and the events that followed in its wake hadn't allowed him a chance to hunt before his trip. He was torn between telling the truth and playing brave. He decided to err towards truth, it was his nature.

"Does it matter?" he sighed. "I do not share your Masters' dietary preferences."

"Yes, _Medico_," Tobias smiled, a friendly gesture meant to put him at ease. "The Masters have made arrangements for your . . . uhm . . . special needs."

"Have they?" Carlisle grumped. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a small wall mirror, his eyes were nearly black. "Tell your Masters that I require something more substantial than a few sheep stolen from some poor shepherd's flock or a couple of street curs garnered from the local dog pound."

"No," Tobias shook his head. "You misunderstand; they would never seek to insult you in such a way, _Medico_. You are their honored guest. They have acquired stags for you."

He was to be fed and entertained, how interesting. The ancient tradition of bread, wine, and circuses that had appeased the impoverished masses of Rome for centuries continued. The great Nero would be pleased. They must truly be convinced his family would come to his rescue.

He felt himself sigh. He wasn't sure which would be better, to die now without the extended agony of anticipation or to live a few more weeks with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

"Tell your Masters I appreciate their hospitality," he managed. "I am, indeed, thirsty."

* * * *

The entire _"_C-Team_"_ filed into the small airport chapel. Sarah heard Esme ask Liam and Jacob to watch the door while the rest of the group took seats. It was time to call Edward. Sarah could sense Bella's nervousness as she dialed the number. Esme insisted she put the call on speaker. The room was graveyard quiet as they listened to the ringing and waited for Edward to answer. When he did pick up, he exploded on the line.

"Isabella! Where the hell are you?" Edward's angry piano keys filled the quiet chapel. "Don't give me that crap about being in Port Angeles. We just got back from the city and you weren't there. We searched for hours and didn't find even the slightest trace of your scent," he snarled on the line. It was the angriest Sarah had ever heard her brother sound. "I want the truth Bella. Now!"

"The truth, Edward," Esme answered him calmly, "is that the girls and I are in London."

"London!" Edward exploded again. By the amount of shock and rage in his voice, Sarah half way expected her brother to leap out of the phone and strangle all of them.

"Esme, what the devil are you doing in London?" As he asked the question, he must have realized what they were up to and she heard him growl.

"Mind your language when you speak to me, Edward Cullen!" her mother corrected him sharply. "If you must know, we are on our way to rescue your father."

There was a long pause and when he finally spoke again, his voice sounded sad. "Esme . . . Mama . . . there are only five of you. What could you possibly hope to do? This is suicide, Mama . . . and you're taking Bella and the girls with you. Please don't do this . . . Dad wouldn't have wanted it this way."

"You talk as if he's already dead," her mother dismissed. Confidence rang in the flutes of her voice as she continued. "And for your information son, there are seventeen of us now."

"Seventeen!" she heard him exclaim. Sarah could tell he was shocked. "Just who do you have with you, Mama?"

She listened as her mother explained that Ben had come along and then she told him about the Quileute presence. Edward had another outburst when he learned Jacob and the wolves were along. She could hear the ringing growl in the pitch of his piano keys quite distinctly. It worried her just a little, but Esme seemed to ignore it. Then her mother explained about the company of Irish vampires that now joined their fold. Her brother growled again but this time he didn't say anything.

"So you see Edward, our odds are greatly improved," she told him cheerfully, "and Siobhan has her gift working in our favor as well."

"Alice," Edward's voice still held a growl, "what do you see?"

When Alice didn't answer right away, Sarah became nervous. She snuggled against Ben's side seeking his comfort; instinctively he wrapped his arm around her and shushed her fears with soft whispers.

"I see us all gathered together for a very formal occasion," Alice purred. "I see you in a black suit Edward, you look very fetching."

"You would tease me about our father's memorial service!" he bellowed.

Sarah's hand went to her mouth in shock. Alice could be cheeky, but she had never known her to be insensitive, let alone . . . cruel. What did her sister see?

"I never said anything about a memorial service," she heard her sister correct. "I was referring to Sarah's wedding. My vision clearly shows us _all_ attending . . . and Carlisle is there to proudly give his little Sarah away. You should see them dancing together; it's a beautifully mushy father/daughter moment. If it were possible for me to cry, I would."

"Are you certain of this?" There seemed to be less anger in Edward's voice.

"Well, perhaps you'd care to enter into a little wager with me," her sister replied smugly. "I do so enjoy taking you to the cleaner's big brother. Now, let's see, what shall we bet this time, another car perhaps? A girl can never have too many of those."

"Never mind Alice," Edward stopped her. "I want to make it _very _clear that I don't like this . . . if I had my way the lot of you would be on the next flight back to the United States. But seeing as these events are obviously out of my hands . . ." he paused for several minutes and Sarah thought the call had dropped, "be careful . . . all of you. It's hard enough thinking about losing Carlisle, but I can't even wrap my mind around losing the rest of you too. You have no idea how _much_ and how _deeply_ I love all of you. Now if you don't mind I'd like a few private words with my mate . . . and Alice, you and Rose should call Jasper and Emmett. They're worried sick."

Sarah heard Bella pick up the phone and switch it out of speaker mode. She wasn't naughty enough to pry into their private conversation. While she always knew Edward loved his family, she'd never heard him express it before and the tone of his voice left no doubt about his sincerity. Now she wanted to cry.

"It's alright little love," Ben whispered against her hair. He had become much attuned to her moods and their bond seemed to deepen by the day.

She turned her face, buried it in his chest, and inhaled the comforting scent of him. "I was so awful to him," she murmured into the folds of his shirt.

"You did what had to be done," he told her quietly. His cheek now rested against the top of her head and his hand stroked her arm lightly. "The success of the mission depended on it. You had to distract him and make him believe you were angry and withdrawn. Any other behavior and he would have suspected something. You can apologize to him later."

She nodded against his shirt and he pulled her more tightly into his embrace.

"Now that we have that taken care of," Esme sighed, "any ideas concerning how to handle the Volturi? The floor is open."


	15. Chapter 15

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 14

**Storming the Bastille**

They arrived in the little village just south of Volterra at 1a.m. local time. In Rome, they were joined by Giovanni, Luigi, and Francisco. Giovanni and Luigi were brothers from Sicily and friends of Peter's. Francisco was a loner who ranged throughout Europe. Currently he was living in Rome. Giovanni was the closest thing to a friend he had.

Their group now numbered twenty.

"Excuse me," she approached Giovanni privately while Alice, Esme, and Ben arranged ground transportation for their group. "I don't mean to sound rude or ungrateful, but how did you know about our plight, did Peter call you?"

Giovanni's laughter sounded like a gentle summer rain pattering against a tin roof. "No, he had no time for phone calls. There is a much faster way."

What could be faster than a phone call she wondered? Her questioning furrow must have been deeper than she thought as it made both Sicilians chuckle.

"The internet," he provided for her when she couldn't figure it out on her own. "We have our own secure web site and our own server. Membership is very exclusive, by invitation of current members only. Peter posted a blog about your little mission."

According to the Sicilians, the vampire world was shocked to its foundations by the news of what the Volturi tried to do to Carlisle and his family after the birth of Nessie. The iron-fisted lengths to which their ruling house would go in order to maintain power was a real eye opener. Her father was quite well known as a man of peace and he was highly respected for his integrity and conviction.

In the days that followed the near catastrophic confrontation, a few individuals within the community got together and decided that change was needed. What worked best for the humans might work for them as well. Instant access to information, the ability for others to see what their rulers were up to was, in their minds, paramount in preventing another incident like the Cullen Crisis. To that end the network was established.

"Do the Volturi know about it?" she asked hesitantly. Their plans could be in jeopardy if Aro already knew they were coming.

"Possibly," he dismissed her concerns, the wave of his hand stired the air and blazed against the blackness . "but they don't have access to our network. Our security is very tight, we make the CIA and Interpol look like branches of the public library. Not even the Vatican can keep a secret buried the way we can."

With the help of Sarah's white hot plastic, tour director Alice managed to rent three non-descript mini-vans. The Quileute took one van, with Jacob at the wheel. The Irish took the second one, Liam was driving. The lead van in their little caravan would hold the Cullen family and the Sicilians, which Alice drove since she knew the way. For some strange reason, Sarah suddenly thought of the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria.

While they were making the two-hour trek through the rolling hills, Giovanni explained the web network called, _L'anima Rosa _or The Blood Rose, to Ben and Esme. Neither one had any idea it existed. As soon as they were back at home safely, Giovanni promised them he would sponsor Ben and Carlisle as new members. The confirmation process would take two weeks.

"What if the Volturi hacked the site?" Ben asked.

"Let them try," Giovanni chuckled menacingly. "Of course our system is protected by all the latest security software. But the critical files, those regarding membership for example, are protected by a doomsday virus. Any attempt at hacking triggers the virus and all files are irrevocably corrupted and . . . the virus has a venom effect as well. It infects the hackers' systems too and fries everything."

"Nasty," Alice commented from the front seat, "I like it."

* * * *

A few miles outside the village of Volterra, the little caravan pulled off the road. The freshly plowed field of a local farmer became their staging area. They went over their plan in detail one more time, mostly for the benefit of their new members.

While they were talking, Luigi's cell phone beeped and Sarah listened as he answered it. The Sicilian laughed.

"Our man on the inside just text messaged me, he says conditions are good for us," Luigi informed them.

"Man on the inside?" Ben's saxophone voice was stunned.

"Of course," Giovanni picked up. "Shortly after the founding of _L'anima Rosa, _we decided it needed someone we could trust inside the Volturi palace to keep an eye on Aro and company."

"You spy on the Volturi?" The harps in Siobhan's voice sounded distressed. "The very notion of that is . . . inconceivable."

"We do indeed," he replied smoothly, "and the inconceivability of it is what makes it possible. The Volturi are over confident. They know they have enemies but they expect them to stay in their places out of fear, like obedient dogs. They tend to forget, however, that every dog has teeth and can therefore bite."

Sarah heard Ben sigh. Esme had appointed him the military leader of their group. As a fully trained Knight and former mercenary, he had the tactical skills for the job. She gave his elbow a gentle reassuring squeeze. In response he patted the back of her hand.

"Right, then." She listened to the inrush of air as her mate took a breath. "This is going to be rather straight forward. Since they don't expect us, we're going to march in, bold as brass, right through the front door. Keep in mind . . ._ we are not looking for a fight_ . . . do I make myself clear." He paused, but no one said anything. "Good. Jacob, do you and yours want to phase first or go in as you are?"

"If you don't want a fight," she heard Jacob answer thoughtfully, "maybe we should phase first. The sight of us in all our rippling lupine glory might make them think twice about making any moves. We can also fight more effectively that way . . . just in case."

"I don't foresee a fight," Alice insisted. "But, as I always say, dress to impress! You can never have too much shock and awe."

"Good point Alice," Ben agreed. "We stay in formation. Bella can protect us from Jane and any other gifted ones with her shield but she can project it only so far. It's imperative that we protect her and Siobhan in an attack as they will be working to protect us."

"I see we have Carlisle's legendary wolves," Waymon sneered, "and we have our own strength, but do we have anything to use against them . . . like they have in Jane."

"Little love, are you up for a demonstration?" Ben whispered as he kissed her forehead. "It might also be a good time to see just how many individuals you can affect at once."

She nodded as she drew her focus inward to her tuning dial. Switching through the stations she located Waymon, Peter and Liam first then she added the Sicilians and Francisco. Her mental hands were starting to get full, but she pulled in Gwinn and Siobhan next. Afraid she couldn't hold any more and still control the volume and intensity, she left it at that. She selected the sound of the cymbals clashing and projected it into their collective minds for several seconds. Not loudly enough to be painful, just loud enough to get their attention.

Their collective murmurs told her she was successful.

"Merciful moons," Siobhan gasped. "No wonder Aro wants the poor girl."

"She can make it considerably louder," Ben informed them. "Loud enough to have you writhing on the ground in pain the way Jane does."

"A _sword_ and a _shield _in the same coven," Waymon mumbled. "This might turn out to be interesting after all."

* * * *

With the first pale grayness of false dawn they arrived outside the Volturi palace. The village was quiet; Sarah listened carefully to the stillness and found most of the inhabitants still asleep. It was a good thing, too; they would have found the sight of five enormous wolves and fifteen vampires stalking through their streets very disquieting.

The main gate to the palace stood open. The residents within were so secure in themselves that, according to Ben, it appeared they never locked it. A breeze stirred and the sight of the wolves cautiously entering the courtyard beyond the gate flared against her vision. Jacob and his pack brothers agreed to take point. Ben, Sarah and Esme followed close on the wolves' heels and Alice , Rose and Bella were behind them. The two Irish covens followed next while Francisco and the Sicilians made up their rear guard.

At the front door they stopped while Sarah tuned her hearing, scanning the stations for any minds that might be close by.

"There's a human in the lobby, but no one else," she told them.

Ben turned her over to Esme to lead so he could open the door. They rushed in quickly, startling the human receptionist; she was so frightened she nearly had a heart attack. Sarah could hear the excited pounding of her heart. Because he was a lawyer and therefore eloquent, it was agreed that Ben would do most of the talking.

"Good morning my dear," he greeted the frightened woman warmly. "So sorry to have startled you . . . uhm . . . what's your name sweetness?"

"Maria," she squeaked.

"What a lovely name," Ben soothed. "There's no need to be afraid, Maria, we're not going to hurt you."

Sarah growled low in her throat, she didn't like the way her mate was talking to this strange woman. It dawned on her suddenly that she was very jealous. Esme shushed her and she quieted down.

"Now tell me, dear, do you have a passport and where is it?"

"Yes . . . in my . . . in my purse," the woman stammered. Her heart had slowed a little but Sarah could tell she was still frightened.

"Very good, my dear. Now, in a few moments I'm going to have you push that little button under your desk and buzz us through that private door over there." His voice continued to sound warm, even affectionate. "But before I do, I want to give you some advice. As soon as we're through that door, you should grab your purse with your passport and whatever money you have in your bank account and get as far away from Volterra as possible . . . leave the country if you can. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the frightened woman answered.

"Excellent, you may push that button now, Maria."

Sarah heard the woman's fingers fumble under the desk and the sound of a switch being thrown. The door lock instantly released and one of their number had it open. They maintained their previous formation as Esme lead her into the corridor beyond the door. The hall was narrow and everything echoed in her sensitive ears, fouling her hearing. She growled in frustration.

"What is it Kitten?" her mother whispered.

"Too much echo," she answered. In the narrow confines, their group sounded like a thundering herd of horses tromping all around her.

"Turn down the volume of your ears, Kitten, and listen with your mind instead," Esme comforted.

They paraded through the maze until all the twists and turns had Sarah sure they were lost. Every so often they stopped to get their bearings and to let Sarah listen ahead for presences. Though her radar made her skin crawl constantly with electricity, she didn't detect any unknown vampire minds nearby. At the end of a long straight corridor they came to a grinding halt.

"That's the elevator," Bella insisted. "Remember Alice, it's the one we came up on."

"Yes," Alice agreed. "But if memory serves me it's barely bigger than a dumb waiter and painfully slow."

"Over here there's a set of stairs," Liam called under his breath. "They're narrow but we wouldn't have to split up."

A hasty battlefield discussion soon had Sarah and company descending the stairs. Without much air circulation, her sound vision was almost useless and she relied heavily on her radar and mental abilities. What she wouldn't give for fresh air and a gentle breeze.

At the foot of the stairs, they paused to regroup and allow Sarah to listen and scan for minds. Everyone remained quiet as she tuned her ears and raised the volume. In the distance, she could make out faint muffled voices, but the way the sounds bounced around off things she couldn't pinpoint their origin. The sounds she found closer to them she found upsetting, the constant drip of water and the scurrying of rats.

"Mama, exactly where are we?" The air around her was stale and damp with a peculiar mustiness to it that she couldn't put her finger on.

"We're below the castle," Ben answered for Esme as he resumed leading her. "My guess is this used to be part of the catacombs."

"Or the dungeon," Waymon sneered.

Sarah squeezed Ben's arm even tighter. In response to her fright, her mate growled a low warning to Waymon to mind his mouth.

They made their way in silence along the passage way. Sarah homed in on the largest concentration of unfamiliar vampire minds she could find. It didn't take long to find their way to where the enemy gathered. According to Ben's earlier briefing, this was the audience chamber of the Volturi. From here the triad of Aro, Caius, and Marcus ruled a shadow Empire.

They were uninvited guests and not expected by the Masters. A proper entrance was important and this had been a subject of fierce debate at their earlier stop outside the village. Esme wanted a calm, stately affair, where everyone walked in quietly, like entering a church. Waymon and Peter, on the other hand, were all for going in with guns blazing like something out of a John Wayne movie, Rooster Cogburn in _True Grit _instantly came to mind. _"Fill your hand you *&%$#*! ! ! !," _the Duke's voice shouted in her imagination.

Ben decided to try for something in the middle. Too demure an entrance might cause Aro to think they were weak and thus elicit an attack. Conversely, too explosive an entrance could have a similar effect. Balance was the key.

On Ben's mark, they rushed the audience chamber, startling its occupants with the suddenness of their actions as they did. Each member of their group had a pre-assigned position based on Bella's memory of the chamber. She listened to the sound of footsteps as everyone took their places. Hers was on Ben's arm with Esme right beside her.

"Outrageous!!" an angry voice that sounded like the bassoon for _The __Sorcerer's Apprentice _blasted. "What mutiny is this?"

"Be calm friend Aro," the twitter of Esme's flutes soothed. "This is no mutiny, we come in peace."

"Beautiful Esme, there is none among us more fair or gentle," the bassoon sounded again. "How can you expect me to believe peaceful intentions when you invade the sanctuary of my home with an army?"

* * * *

No one noticed as The Watcher discreetly slipped out of the audience chamber via a secret door. The commotion caused by Carlisle's coven as they burst in covered Tobias' hasty exit. He had been with the Masters long enough to know that they were very angry . . . angry enough to kill. If Death was to be cheated this day, he would have to work quickly; there was no time for delay.

He raced through the corridors at a reckless speed towards his destination. Only one person among them could end this peacefully. _Stregoni Benefici_ . . ._ Medico_ was the only one who could stop this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Note:** I do not own Twilight!!!

**Note to my readers:** I know I don't always respond to your reviews, but please don't think that my lack of responce means I don't value what you have to say. To each and every one of you who has taken the time to write something to me. . .I give you a heart felt thank you. Your thoughts bring a smile to my face each time I check my e-mail.

Chapter 15

**No Greater Love **

Carlisle sat comfortably on the sofa with a delicate volume open in his lap. It should be in a museum he thought to himself as his eyes scanned the yellowing page before him. He was aware that Aro was quite the collector of rare antiquities, but this was a boon even for him. He was going to have to suggest to his host the prospect of hiring an archivist and constructing a hermetically sealed vault for such items. The world could not afford to lose treasures like this to carelessness and the ravages of the environment.

He smiled as he glanced down once again at the yellowed pages. The intricately detailed drawings set in amongst lines of Latin text, written backwards, fascinated him. Each pen stroke was an explosive leap of intuitive thought. The very pages of Leonardo's journal represented the mind of the master peeling the world apart like the leaves of an onion until he reached the heart of it . . . until he understood it.

Carefully, he turned the page. His eyes followed the backwards text easily. It would not have been a simple task for him if he were still human.

Suddenly the door burst open and Tobias stumbled into his room. He literally looked as though he'd seen a ghost . . . or worse. Carlisle tensed; perhaps the moment had finally arrived. No more waiting for the inevitable, he sighed as he laid the journal on the sofa next to him. It was strange how peaceful he felt facing his final moments; somehow he thought he would be more upset.

"_Medico_ . . ._ Medico_, you must come quickly before Aro kills them!" Tobias insisted as he took Carlisle by the arm and tried to haul him toward the door. "You must save them _Medico_ . . . you are the only one who can."

Carlisle pulled away from Tobias and glared at him. "What are you going on about? Who is Aro going to kill and how am I supposed to save them?"

"There is no time _Medico_ . . . please, you must hurry if you are to save them." The pleading in Tobias' voice increased in pitch and he was obviously agitated about something. Still Carlisle remained firmly planted where he stood, he wasn't about to follow until he knew more.

"Tobias, calm down and tell me what this is all about."

Carlisle watched the short, dark haired male vampire as he tried to regain a measure of his self control. Whatever had him so upset was no small matter.

"They are here _Medico_ . . . your cov. . .I mean your family. They came for you and . . ."

"Honestly Tobias, that's really quite enough!" Carlisle interrupted angrily. "I rather like you in a strange sort of way, but I'm sorry to have to tell you that I think you've gone quite mad." He plopped back down on the sofa. "My family is safe and sound in the United States."

"No! No! No!" he insisted, it was like watching a two year old in a grocery store throwing a temper tantrum. "They are here _Medico_ . . . in the Masters' audience chamber. Your lovely wife leads them and your four daughters follow. The youngest one hangs on the arm of a fierce warrior like an ornament on a Christmas tree. There are five of your famous wolves with them and nine other vampires as well. They rushed into the chamber like barnstormers . . . like gangbusters . . . like gangsters, however you Americans say it!"

Carlisle couldn't believe what he was hearing, he was sure he'd frozen every account, even the secret ones only he, Esme, and Edward knew about. His pass code and signature were required to cancel the hold prior to the end seven days. As he got up from the sofa he fixed Tobias with a hard stare.

"If you're lying to me Tobias," he growled, "you won't have to worry about Aro killing you . . . I'll rip you apart myself."

* * * *

The sound of hushed footfalls told her the Volturi Guard was taking up positions. Though she had only heard one of them speak, the one called Aro, Sarah gathered as many unfamiliar minds into her concentration as she could. If they wanted a fight, she was prepared to give them one. The lion within her growled, ready to be released.

"Friend Aro, what proof do you require of my good intentions?" her mother's voice rang crystal clear and strong through the chamber.

"I am not sure proof is possible at this point my dear." the bassoon played sadly. "We were hoping you and your lovely children would come, but we were not expecting . . ._ insurrection_. Your coven . . ." he paused and corrected himself, "excuse me, I mean your family, has always been so peaceful."

"And they remain so," Ben's deep saxophone voice answered. "We come in numbers only to ensure our own safety as we seek the emancipation of the beloved patriarch of this family."

"You speak well, friend," the sound of the bassoon was like velvet, not a single ripple of anger could be heard in it. "I'm afraid I don't recognize you, what is your name?"

She felt Ben straighten before speaking; she squeezed his arm a little in support. Though he didn't acknowledge the gesture she knew he welcomed it.

"I am Benjamin Wiseman. Formerly I was Benjamin De Monte Virun, but that was five centuries ago." She could feel him smiling and he chuckled as he paused. "I think you might know me better, however, as the _Crimson_ _Paladin._"

Startled murmurs stirred through the chamber like a chilly autumn breeze.

"I told you he wasn't one you should mess with," Alice chimed from behind her.

His title, undoubtedly, must have meant something, but she had no idea what.

"We thought you were dead," a different male spoke this time. Instead of music, this voice roared and crackled like a raging forest fire. Sarah was sure the inferno of Hell itself lurked in its crackling depths and she shivered at the sound of it.

"Indeed, Caius is right, friend," Aro and the bassoon answered. "These past few centuries, we thought you were dead."

"Retired," Ben corrected.

"And you come out of retirement to help Carlisle's family and a pack of worthless dogs overthrow the Volturi?" the forest fire crackled angrily.

"We have not come to overthrow you," Esme urged. "My daughters and I have come to bring Carlisle home . . . where he belongs." She heard her mother step forward two paces. "If you don't believe my words, then touch me and know my thoughts . . . know that I speak the truth."

"A noble offer and I thank you for it," Aro answered. "But I fear, beautiful Esme, that your actions have escalated matters far beyond the scope of simply bringing home a cherished patriarch. You bring an army into the heart of my palace and you threaten my dear ones. I do not take this lightly."

"No one has threatened you," Ben responded. "We did not attack."

"I know a threat when I see one, warrior," Aro chided Ben, but still his voice was smooth. "Perhaps it was not your intention to make a threat but you've made one none the less."

"Esme!" The sound of bright cathedral bells boomed through the audience chamber and Sarah's spirits soared. She listened to her father's footfalls as he ran to embrace his wife. Embarrassment stirred in her when she heard them kiss.

"What manor of treachery is this?" For the first time Aro sounded a little annoyed. "Friend Carlisle, I do not recall sending for you."

"I brought him, Master."

She instantly recognized the sound of static; this was The Watcher named Tobias.

"We did not send for him, Tobias." the forest fire crackled and spit angrily.

It seemed the one called Caius had temper issues, she thought to herself. A hot head usually meant a loose cannon. She should know, she thought, and smiled as the lion rumbled deep within her.

A surge of power stirred in the room. She felt it as a new and even more painful ripple of electricity across her skin. Seconds later, Tobias was screaming in agony and she heard his body hit the stone floor. Her fingers tensed around Ben's arm as the poor man's screams continued. Her mate patted her hand lightly.

Anger welled within her, if there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was a bully. She reached for the tuning knob in her head and searched through the stations until she found the mind that was inflicting the pain. Even the feel of it made her wince.

The whistle worked well on one bully, she though smugly, let's see how this one likes it. She merged the sound of the whistle and the bully's mind together in her mental grasp, cranked up the volume, and blasted her projection at full bore.

There was the sound of a woman screaming, followed by the thud of another body hitting the floor. She smiled with satisfaction. She was about to kick it up a notch when she felt the touch of a familiar hand on her other arm.

"That's enough Sarah, let Jane go," her father ordered gently.

"You say you mean no threat, that you did not come to attack," a third male whispered softly. This one sounded like a gust of wind through a stand of pine trees. Although she could tell he was irate, it didn't echo in the wind of his voice. "Yet, here you have assaulted one of our dear ones."

"True , Marcus," Aro agreed. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Sarah spoke before her father could answer. "I didn't attack," she stated calmly. "I defended a helpless man from a bully. I hate bullies. It's one thing to have power and another thing entirely to abuse it by using it as a beat stick to torment others."

"Be silent Sarah!" her father growled.

"No friend Carlisle, allow the girl speak," Aro chided her father before turning his verbal focus to her. "Like every good father I discipline my children . . . my dear ones . . . when they are out of line. Tobias was out of line, therefore discipline was in order." He paused briefly and then continued. "Carlisle does not do this?"

"Papa has never laid a hand on me."

"Then perhaps he should have, you would be less disobedient and surly," Aro replied curtly.

"Discipline administered in the absence of love is abuse," she shot back hotly. "Perhaps if you disciplined your dear ones less and loved them more, you'd have no use for discipline at all."

"Are you suggesting, young Sarah, that I don't love my dear ones?" Indignation rang in the sound of the bassoon. "I care for them, I look after their needs, I keep them safe, this is my sacred duty as a leader of the Volturi and I take that duty very seriously. In return, my dear ones give me their unwavering loyalty."

"Would you die for one of them?" she whispered softly. She was sure no one heard her but in response the room went instantly still. The question obviously struck a nerve.

"Papa," she fought to keep her voice steady as she addressed her father. "What's that line from the scripture about giving your children scorpions and eggs?"

She heard her father chuckle and then clear his throat before speaking. _"Which of you fathers, if your son asked for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give you? Luke, chapter 11, verse 13."_

"So you give them fish instead of snakes, and eggs instead of scorpions," she began calmly; it was taking every ounce of self control she had to keep the angry lion within her at bay. Only Ben, whose arm she clung to, knew she was trembling.

"So what, even the most vile of humans can do _that_!" She paused for a moment and groped until her other hand gripped her father's arm. "Look here and see what a true father and leader looks like. Here is a man who loves his family so much that he's willing to lay down his own life for them. He came here knowing full well what awaited him and he was willing to face death for his family's sake . . . for _my_ sake."

"Don't fool yourself into thinking for one second that just because poor Sarah is blind, she can't _see_," she cautioned. "This whole tragedy was orchestrated with one goal in mind, to take me away from my loving family . . . to make me one of your _dear ones_. I could never be as happy, feel as whole . . . or be as thoroughly loved among the Volturi as I am being a Cullen. You couldn't possibly love me the way my family does because you simply don't know how."

The room fell silent again and, for a long time it remained that way.

"Foolishness," Aro finally scoffed, breaking the silence. "Love, fish and snakes, self-sacrifice, is this the kind of idiotic nonsense you fill family's heads with Carlisle?"

She felt her father wrap his arm around her and kiss the crown of her head lightly.

"Well done, Sarah," he whispered. Deep pride resonated through the bells in his voice.

"It isn't foolishness." She felt her father step away from her as he answered. "And I do believe my daughter asked you a question . . . Would you be willing to die for one of your _dear ones_?"

"This is _my_ audience chamber; I don't have to answer _your_ questions here," Aro barked.

"I think it's a very interesting question, Master," the voice of the bully, Jane, interjected. "The members of the Guard risk themselves for you daily; would you be willing to do the same for us? Would you join us in battle and fight alongside us? Would you willingly face your own demise for _me_ the way Carlisle was willing to for the sake of his family?"

A murmuring could be heard spreading through the room.

"What about me Master," another voice rose up. "Would you risk you life for me?"

"Or me Master," yet another one called.

Sarah listened as an entire chorus began singing "Or me" and "What about me?" all around the audience chamber. What had she done?

"Silence!" the bassoon blasted. "Dear ones, listen to yourselves. We are under siege and you're worried about whether or not I am willing to fight and die alongside you . . . whether I am willing to die for one of you. This is insanity. Have I not taken care for you, do I not provide everything you require? . . . Name for me a leader, a king, who marched to battle with his troops."

The murmuring in the room continued.

Ben's harmonious saxophone filled the chamber when he spoke. "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon St. Crispin's Day!. . ." He paused briefly to allow the echo of his words to stop before he continued. "Those words are from Shakespeare, the soliloquy of Henry V, given to his outnumbered forces prior to the Battle of Agincourt. A fierce and gory battle, I might add, in which the king himself did actually fight and risk his life alongside his troops."

"Leave it to the _Crimson Paladin _to know military history _and _quote Shakespeare," Aro groaned "The point, however, is mute. You have invaded my home and threatened my dear ones, for that you must be punished. I will spare any among you who are willing to join my dear ones. Otherwise . . . I am sad to say, you will perish."

"Which one will you attack first Master?" Jane asked casually. "Might_ I_ suggest the tall newborn in the back row? Being less experienced than the rest, he would be a good candidate for you to . . . uhm . . . please forgive me , Master, but . . . cut your teeth on."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" the forest fire hissed.

"It means," Jane sighed. "that the Guard sees no threat in the Cullen family's presence, nor do we find malice in the presence of their witnesses. Incidentally," there was amusement in Jane's voice now, "will the wives be joining the three of you in battle? That would be a most entertaining sight indeed."

"Are you refusing to fight?" Shock and indignation played alternating notes through the music of the bassoon.

"We are refusing to engage in an unprovoked attack on a peaceful assembly of our brethren," Jane replied in a most respectful tone. "It would be dishonorable."

"It would appear Aro," Carlisle spoke calmly, "that we are in a stale mate, as my family and their witnesses have no intention of launching into violence. We will, however," he added in a warning tone, "defend ourselves vigorously should the three of you move against us."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** You may find the whole quote from Henry V in among my reviews thanks to LPsDarkAngel who included it in her review. Thanks LP!!


	17. Chapter 17

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 16

**The Blood Rose**

In her typical innocent fashion, Sarah set the world of the Volturi on its ear with a single question, _"Would you die for one of them?" _Aro hadn't given the Guard a straight answer and his hesitance was a resounding _no_ in their minds. The Masters' reaction screamed of elitism. It reminded the Guard that, while he might call them his _dear ones_, they were tools in Aro's hands to be used at his discretion, they were completely expendable. Carlisle didn't need Edward's gift to know that.

Now a schism existed between the Guard and the Masters. He was sure it would heal in time, Aro would use his notorious silver tongue to purr soothing words of reassurance in their ears and all would be forgiven. In the meantime, however, chaos reigned.

The refusal of the Volturi Guard to launch an all out attack against his family and witnesses stunned Carlisle. To his knowledge this was unprecedented. What his next move should be was still unclear. Of one thing he was certain, this was his golden moment and if he was going to get himself and his family out of this safely he was going to have to tread carefully.

"My family and I came here in peace Aro, now allow us depart in peace," he suggested.

"Your family has a strange way of defining peace, friend Carlisle," Aro sneered.

Without the full backing of the Guard, Carlisle knew there was very little Aro could do, but it would be foolish to provoke matters just the same.

"I beg your forgiveness on my family's behalf," he sighed. "My mate loves me dearly, more than life itself, and her love for me is mirrored in my children. Together they would move heaven and earth on my account."

"I have heard quite enough about love today," Aro growled. "That word now sickens me to the core of my dead heart. Laws have been broken here and protocols trampled on like grass under foot. For the sake of good order, these things simply cannot be overlooked."

He did have a point, Carlisle mused. Like it or not, the Volturi served a purpose in their world, they were the barrier that stood between themselves and anarchy. Some form of governance was required to protect the vampire world from itself as well as the humans. Without this civilizing force, extinction was inevitable.

"Masters, perhaps it is time to consider another way."

The sound of Tobias' voice interrupted his deep thought. He watched as the short dark-haired male stepped forward. In the brief time Carlisle had come to know him, Tobias came across as meek and unassuming. The man that addressed the Masters now was self-assured and bold.

"Be silent Tobias! You are in enough trouble already," Caius hissed. "Be grateful I have not condemned you to execution on the very spot where you stand."

Carlisle watched in amazement as Tobias straightened to stand even taller, he was totally un-phased by Caius' threat. This amount of courage was definitely a trait he hadn't noticed in the man before. Perhaps he was mad after all.

"You may do as you like, Master," Tobias answered with confidence, "but I warn you, such an action would be unwise . . . considering, your present tenuous position." His alert eyes flashed a glance at Jane. "It would only drive home the point already made by young Sarah . . . that we are nothing more to you than instruments for your use to be disposed of at your pleasure."

"How dare you mock me?!" Caius bellowed as he exploded towards Tobias with the silver sphere in his outstretched hand. Aro stopped him before he could set Tobias' body alight with it.

"Be calm, dear Caius," Aro soothed. "Let us hear what friend Tobias has to say."

The room went still as every focus now rested on Tobias. The dark-haired male took several steps forward and in that moment he looked more like an important dignitary than one of Aro's lackeys.

"Over its centuries of leadership, the Volturi have been the guiding force that has kept our world safe and intact," he began in a very diplomatic tone that surprised Carlisle. "The vampire world placed its trust in you and your abilities. We _accepted_ that the rules and decrees coming to us from the Volturi palace were for the betterment and benefit of all. That view changed drastically several years ago however, when your true colors blazed forth like the noonday sun during the Cullen Crisis.

"It became evident, at that time, that your strict yet benevolent leadership masked much darker motives. Yes, you kept our world safe . . . but not for our sakes, self preservation was your only motivator. Your hunger for power and more power and the methods and tactics you use to acquire it are of no consequence to you. You will stop at nothing . . . including the utter destruction of a peaceful family . . . to achieve what you want.

"To that end a movement began and it has steadily and secretly grown in size over these past few years. We exist in numbers that would make you stagger and fall to your knees. We are _L'anima Rosa _and even now we are watching. Hidden in this very chamber are several small cameras and they are broadcasting these events live via the internet to our worldwide membership."

The expression on Aro's face was one of disbelief and Carlisle watched a host of other emotions play behind his crimson eyes. The same look was repeated on the faces of Marcus and Caius. Jane and the Guard were dumbstruck by the news. This wasn't mere treachery, this was open rebellion. The last time a power shift had occurred in the vampire world had been over 1500 years ago when the Volturi overthrew the Romanians. The familiar scent of revolution filled the audience chamber.

"What do you want?" Marcus whispered. "Do you wish to overthrow us and install Carlisle as your new leader?" Then he chuckled but he didn't sound amused. "He'll make drinking human blood a crime punishable by death; soon we will all be . . ._ vegetarians_."

Carlisle felt his anger bristle at Marcus' slight. He would never force his lifestyle on others, it was a choice . . . it had to be or else it wouldn't work.

As to the notion of being called upon to fill the Volturi shoes, well that was just ridiculous and he refused to give it any serious consideration.

"We do not seek to demolish the House of Volturi," Tobias answered, maintaining his respectful tone. "Instead, we wish to . . . renovate it. Until now, we have considered you our _unofficial_ monarchy. We are willing to give that recognition to the House of Volturi in an official way however, the Vampire Nation no longer wishes the royal house to be a dictatorship."

"Vampire Nation?" Carlisle couldn't help breathing the word aloud. He had often considered others of his kind as at least brethren and more often friends, but a Nation was a new concept in his mind.

"Yes _Medico_," Tobias addressed him now. "It is true that we have no land mass, no country to call our own but, by the definition of the word, that is exactly what we are; one people unified by a common government with common customs, origins, and histories. We are a Nation . . . the Vampire Nation."

"Intriguing." Carlisle was fascinated by the thought. A thousand different excited notions whirled and tumbled through his mind at once.

"Get to the point Tobias!" Aro snapped.

"The point . . ._ Masters_, is that _L'anima Rosa_ seeks the formation of a full Constitutional Monarchy. We want the Rule of Law and the establishment a Judiciary for the adjudication of criminal offenses. We want the formation of a representative body, a Council, through which the common interests of the Nation can be expressed and addressed and . . ." Tobias paused here briefly before continuing in a most authoritative tone, "with the power to override a Volturi decision, should they deem it necessary. In short, Masters, the Vampire Nation wishes nothing less than . . ._ democracy_!"

Democracy, the word echoed through the halls of Carlisle's mind, as he absently wrapped his arm around Esme's shoulder. What a glorious word, it rolled off the tongue like the ringing of a bell and it held the promises of freedom in every syllable. The humans lived this way, they had for several hundred years now. Bloody wars had been fought for the cause of it and the world had often been brought to the very brink of oblivion in its name. Still, the beauty of its ideal remained untarnished, for it represented the best and noblest traits that a people . . . a Nation . . . might possess.

History, at that very moment, was in the making and Carlisle smiled because he had a front row seat. He only wished the rest of his family were there with him to see it happen. He glanced at Sarah, hanging on Ben's arm. She was so young and innocent, what would the future of a democratic Vampire Nation hold for her? He cast a glance at Esme and beamed with pride at the sight of his beautiful brave mate who had risked everything to save him. He looked over his shoulder at his other daughters and his pride swelled even higher. He let himself drift on the giddy emotions of the moment, allowed them to wash through every part of his being.

That is until the dark voice of doom interrupted them.

"Are you out of your minds?!" Aro bellowed. "For fifteen hundred years the Volturi . . . in our unquestioned and absolute power . . . have been the only force keeping our world . . . our Nation . . . from oblivion. How long do you think it will take, once _our_ restraint is removed, for the humans to learn the secret of our existence and how long beyond that do you think we will survive?

"We may look upon our human fodder as cattle but I warn you, they are not the dumb beasts we like to pretend they are. Daily they invent new, more effective, and more deadly ways of annihilating each other. Would you care to see that same sadistic creativity applied to the . . ._ Vampire Nation_? Democracy indeed, what you're asking for is nothing short of extinction!"

* * * *

A sick, sinking feeling settled into Sarah's gut as she listened to Aro's prediction of doom. She felt guilty, the world . . . the Vampire Nation was falling apart and somehow she had caused it. She didn't regret coming to rescue her father, but maybe if she hadn't laid into Jane and she had kept her mouth shut things wouldn't be the way they are. She snuggled into Ben's side, seeking solace. He seemed to sense her need and wrapped his arm around her.

"You still speak as though we wish to overthrow the Volturi," the static in Tobias' voice sounded calm and confident. "This is not the case."

If not an overthrow, Sarah wondered, then what? Did the Blood Rose really believe that the triad would willingly share power? They were accustomed to doing as they pleased and answering to no one. They were a law unto themselves . . . they were gods. How does one co-govern with a deity?

"You are talking treason!" the forest fire hissed. "Blasphemy! You will bring destruction to us all. Jane, will you and the Guard sit idly by while Carlisle and his seditionist horde bring our world to ruination?"

"Hold on, friend Caius," her father insisted. "Until today, I had never heard of _L'anima Rosa_ nor did I have knowledge of their motives."

"Lie!" The white hot anger that crackled and hissed in Caius' voice threatened to set the whole room a blaze.

"It is the truth." Tobias defended her father's words. "We purposefully kept _Medico _and his family in the dark concerning our existence. The reasons for this are our own, but he tells the truth."

"Tobias is right," Aro agreed unhappily. "When I touched him during our interrogation he had no knowledge of these vicious traitors. Of sedition, friend Carlisle is innocent."

"So you want Democracy," the wind in the pine trees whispered. "You wish to share power with the Volturi and in your earlier comments you suggested your organization has both the numbers and the determination to force this change. Let us hope you also have a solid and well thought out blueprint for your vicious little dream . . . just what does _L'anima Rosa_ have in mind?"


	18. Chapter 18

Note: I don't own Twilight!!!

Chapter 17

**We Hold These Truths. . .**

________________________________________________________________

_**We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain Inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness**_.

_Thomas Jefferson_

_The United States Declaration of Independence_

_July 4, 1776_

__________________________________________________________________

Carlisle watched in amazement as what began a few hours ago as the tense opening moments of a rebellion eased into quiet negotiations. Tobias, Waymon, and Peter sat down across from the triad at a huge mahogany table that had once belonged to Napoleon. Carlisle was certain it wasn't a reproduction, nothing in Aro's collection was ever a reproduction. Jane and several other members of the Guard fetched it, along with the matching chairs, from another part of the palace and set them up in the center of the audience chamber.

Somehow, Carlisle ended up being the mediator. His job was to ensure level-headed discussions of all matters and to transcribe agreed to articles of the new Constitution. Once he had all the bits and pieces together, both Tobias and the Volturi insisted he organize and write the entire document. He now understood the enormous pressure and reluctance expressed to him by Thomas Jefferson in a casual conversation they once had at a Philadelphia ale house.

"You are trusted by all, _Medico,_ and are known to be a man of great integrity," Tobias insisted. "Your involvement is very auspicious."

As he took notes regarding articles of the document already agreed upon by both sides, he couldn't help but wonder where this would ultimately lead. Even as he wrote, his mind reflected on history. At that very moment, he felt his overactive imagination suddenly transport him back through the mists of time. The multiple accounts he had read over the years made vivid mental pictures of the year 1215 and the meadow at Runnymede dance in his head. This was the place where King John signed the first Magna Carta. That event ended in a civil war when the king denounced portions of the document which severely limited his power. Carlisle could only hope better things would come from this document.

At the end of several hours of intense talks, the framework of a bold new world emerged. A High Council made up of twelve individuals was to be selected. Three council seats were to be awarded by appointment of the Volturi, but they could not be held by current or former members of the Guard. Three seats were to be given by direct appointment of _L'anima Rosa. _The other six were to be awarded by virtue of a general election to be held eighteen months hence and presided over by the six appointed members of the interim Council.

The laws of their people were to be codified. That task, along with the appointment five magistrates, would be among the full High Council's first duties. Already within the document he was writing, new mandates concerning newborns were coming into play. The new laws held that any vampire creating a newborn be made solely responsible for that newborn for the first two years of its existence. Violators would be subject to punishment and abandoned newborns would be placed into foster covens or taken in by the Volturi . . . in essence becoming Royal wards.

It was decided that the Guard would remain under Volturi command. A smaller force called the Watchers, headed by Tobias, would be under the control of the Council and serve as agents in the field to look into grievances and complaints.

The triad favored laws limiting the size of covens . . . to no more than four individuals. A grandfather clause would of course be added for existing larger covens. Because of their non-competitive nature, Carlisle and his family would be exempt from such laws and Sarah would be allowed to marry Ben thus adding him to the family. There was also a leaning among both sides regarding formal registration of all covens and a census of the entire populace of the Vampire Nation to be conducted every hundred years.

On the subject of Sarah's marriage, Aro commented, "It will instill discipline in her and do her a world of good. The firm hand of the warrior should quickly settle some of her fire."

Obviously, Aro didn't know Sarah very well, Carlisle mused, or Ben either for that matter. He secretly feared that the two of them could get into more trouble as a mated pair that they ever could separately. Their present excursion was proof of that. Sarah, with the wild heart of the lion, and Ben, with the heart of a noble warrior, joined together fighting for a common cause . . . the very notion made him shudder. If it were possible for him to get gray hairs, Sarah and Ben would surely be the cause of them.

As he finished the last line of the paragraph he was writing, Tobias spoke again.

"We will need to create an appointed position to oversee the High Council, act as a deciding vote should the Council need a tie breaker, and represent the Council in the Royal Volturi court," Tobias thought aloud.

"You will not seize the upper hand by stacking numbers in your favor!" Caius hissed. The fire-brand of the Volturi still wasn't convinced that any of this would work. Throughout the negotiations, Carlisle heard him muttering constantly to himself.

"Nor shall you," Waymon grumped. The young red-haired male didn't seem the slightest bit afraid of the powerful leader he sat across from. "We know how you work."

Carlisle watched anger play on Caius' face but a meaningful glare from Aro kept him silent.

"No, Caius is right," Tobias soothed. "This position must be filled by someone who we all trust and respect."

A sudden sinking feeling settled into the pit of Carlisle's stomach as all eyes turned to him. _No_ his mind screamed, all he really wanted to do was go home to his family, but that was looking less and less likely. He knew without a doubt what Tobias was going to say even before he spoke.

"_L'anima Rosa_ nominates _Medico_," the short watcher stated confidently, "to be Prolocutor of the High Council."

"The Volturi second the nomination," Aro intoned, satisfaction oozed in his silken voice.

"And what if I refuse?" he replied flatly, trying to modulate any emotion from his voice.

Carlisle was slightly annoyed at not having been asked first. To say he preferred his privacy was an understatement. Though he was by no means an utter recluse, he didn't enjoy the glare of the spotlight either. His lifelong desires were simple; to be a good husband, a good father, and a good doctor in that exact order. He had other plans for his life, his family, career and research came to mind in rapid succession.

Politics was a distasteful game that he did not enjoy playing . . . not in the least. In fact, he found it very tiresome. A prominent role in the fledgling vampire democracy was not what he wanted at all and every fiber of his being screamed for him to put the brakes on this before it got wildly out of hand.

"You have been nominated Medico and. . ."

"Excuse me," Esme's polite voice interrupted Tobias. Everyone turned to look her. "Might we have a word privately with our patriarch please?"

He looked deeply into his mate's eyes, wondering what caused her to speak up. Instantly, he found himself very distracted, he could look into those eyes forever and never grow tired of them. It dawned on him then just how much he would have missed gazing into those pools of sun-warmed honey had Aro consigned him to oblivion. A smile curled his lips even as he wrestled his wandering thoughts back to the matters at hand.

Her face, he noted, was completely unreadable but, knowing Esme as he did, he was sure something was cooking in her delightful mind. Perhaps she had figured a way out of this for him. He certainly hoped she had.

A brief adjournment was quickly agreed upon and by all parties. Jane escorted Carlisle, his family, and his witnesses to his private room. Ben, Seth and Tobias, along with three members of the Guard, remained in the Audience Chamber to ensure nothing was tampered with.

Once inside the room with the door securely locked from within, the heartfelt and exuberant reunion began.

* * * *

Sarah listened as her father greeted each member of the group with a hug. She purposefully hung back, avoiding her turn. She was happy he was safe and well, but at the same time she was apprehensive. Would he be angry that she had disobeyed him, would he scold her for endangering half his family and many of his friends? Slowly, she worked her way into a remote corner of the room, away from everyone else.

He was speaking to Alice now and they were laughing. Sarah didn't bother to bump up the volume of her hearing to make out the conversation. She could hear all she needed to in the pleasant happy tolling of the bells in his voice. Now he was talking to Jacob and the same jovial ring played through each word of friendship. Her gut tightened as she was sure there would be no such warmth in his voice for her. She imagined the angry hiss of the forest fire in Caius' voice and Edward's growled outbursts. Suddenly she found herself trembling. She pushed deeper into the corner and would have happily merged with the very walls if she could have.

Sarah listened to their continued murmuring as she tried to make herself as small as possible.

"Where is Sarah?" she finally heard her father ask. For now, nothing but concern played in the bright bells.

* * * *

Once they were all alone in his room, there was no stopping the jubilant atmosphere that erupted. Though he had greeted her in the audience chamber, Carlisle couldn't help embracing Esme a second time and giving her an affectionate, if somewhat reserved, kiss. He realized as he held the love of his life in his arms, just how much he had missed her during their brief separation. He inhaled deeply, drawing in her familiar personal scent. The fragrance of wild roses filled his senses until he was sure he would drown in the heady perfume.

Eventually, reluctantly, he released his wife from his arms and greeted the rest of his family and friends. Never in his life had he been happier to see their shining faces. He met each and every one with warm words and an affectionate hug. To know the true depth to which he was loved and appreciated was both awesome and humbling.

He was back at Esme's side again when he realized something was very wrong . . . he had missed someone.

"Where is Sarah?" He asked with concern. He had greeted everyone except his lion-hearted youngest daughter.

The room went silent as he looked around for her. Then his eyes locked on a sight that sent a chilling shock wave through his long stilled heat. His pugnacious Sarah stood backed into the farthest corner of the room trembling like a frightened animal.

"Oh, Sarah," he whispered under his breath as he slowly made his way towards her. He stopped several paces from her and softly called her name. At the sound of his voice she pressed herself even deeper into the corner and her trembling became more violent. He couldn't fathom what the problem might be or why she seemed so utterly terrified. Then she spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Papa, please don't be angry. . ." her voice squeaked. Fear and uncertainty clung to every word.

His nearly broken heart cracked in two and he couldn't stop himself from rushing forward and snatching her into his arms. The wild look of horror in her hazel eyes as she spoke those words would haunt him for all time.

"It's alright, Sarah," he murmured into her hair as he held her tightly, "I'm not angry, honey." Then he kissed the precious crown of her head and shushed her until her trembling eased.

"I'm sorry, Papa," she squeaked again from the folds of his shirt.

There was less fear in her voice this time, but he could tell she was still frightened. Strong emotions heightened the output of vampire pheromones and the smell of lavender, Sarah's personal scent, filled the enclosed space almost to the exclusion of everything else. He shushed her quiet again.

"I said I wouldn't let them take you," he heard her shaky voice whisper.

"Yes, you did." He would never forget the experience of lying pinned under his shape-shifted daughter's massive forepaws as her whiskers brushed his face. Neither would he ever forget the pain in those amber feline eyes as she looked down at him or the sound of it ringing in her mind voice.

"I said I wouldn't let them kill you." She was trying to sound determined but she wasn't pulling it off. He smiled as he drew her tighter into his embrace.

"I remember." The sound of her furious roaring still rattled through the vastness of his mind.

"No one is ever going to_ take_ Sarah's family away from her again!" she insisted. The growl of the angry lion echoed through each and every word, causing Carlisle to shudder mentally. God help the unfortunate idiot who every tried to "_take"_ anyone or anything from his Sarah, he was quite certain there would be hell and the devil himself to pay behind it.

"I know, honey, I remember every word you spoke that night."

Sarah went very still in his arms and she was quiet for several moments before she spoke again.

"I love you, Papa." she murmured softly.

She didn't need to tell him this, it was a fact he already knew. Still the sound of those four little word tumbling with reckless sincerity from his daughter's mouth made him grow warm inside and, for a moment, he thought he felt his long dead heart take several faltering beats.

"I never doubted you Sarah." He chuckled softly, then he added "I love you too honey."

In that moment it dawned on him that no matter what happened with the fledgling Vampire Nation he had everything he ever wanted or needed in his lovely mate and his adoring children. There was none more lucky or blessed than Carlisle Cullen anywhere in the whole universe.

After a time, he released Sarah from his embrace but kept his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he lead her back toward the center of the room. He stopped only when he stood next to Esme again, his free hand instinctively found hers and their fingers intertwined instantly.

"Bella," his voice still trembled with emotion but he didn't care. "I don't know what kind of reception you'll get in here, but try calling Edward. Tell him to round up Jasper and Emmett; we need to have an impromptu Family Council. I can't accept the appointment as Prolocutor without the vote of the family."


	19. Chapter 19

**Note:** I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 18

**The Blessings of Liberty**

________________________________________________________________

_**We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.**_

_Preamble to the United States Constitution_

_1787_

__________________________________________________________________

The teleconferenced Family Council lasted a little over an hour before they finally took a vote. Carlisle had made it clear at the outset that any final decision regarding his acceptance of the position of Prolocutor remained in his hands, but he wanted his family's honest input. He listened as first Esme and then each of his children gave their opinions on the matter. So far, Esme and three of his children had voted against his acceptance of the position; he found this shocking. He anticipated his mate's reaction, she was still suffering from their brief separation, but the votes of Jasper, Rose, and Edward left him stunned.

"They're not to be trusted, Father," Edward growled as he explained his vote. "What's to stop the Volturi from using this as an excuse to launch an all out assault on anyone involved? It could be nothing more than one big trap and you would be walking right into it."

Jasper echoed similar sentiments, as did Rose.

He took more comfort in the opinions of Bella, Emmett and Alice. They voted yes, insisting he should get involved and endeavor to make a difference.

"If anyone can make this work, you can, Carlisle," Alice encouraged him. The impish smile that turned up the corners of her mouth matched the smile in her voice. "There will be some very tense moments," she warned, "and I see them coming quite soon, but I also see them being resolved peacefully. My vision, however, is based on your inclination towards acceptance; I'm not so sure that the outcomes will remain the same if I remove you from the equation."

Now he was down to his last and youngest child. It was Sarah's turn to vote and he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what she was going to decide. He couldn't blame her really, especially after the trauma she'd gone through over of the past few days. It didn't matter much anyway, he had reserved the right to make the final decision himself. Still, he never liked going against the majority vote of his family and he would have to make his case very judiciously when it came time to explain things. For now, he focused himself solely on Sarah.

"It's your turn, honey." He allowed his every word to exude his love for her, he didn't want her feeling badly about her decision. "What do you think I should do and why?"

He watched her facial expression turn thoughtful and he was a little surprised by this. He was sure she would pop right up and answer without hesitation.

"Do I have to vote, can't I . . . abstain?" Her voice sounded a little unsure.

He couldn't help chuckling and he hoped she didn't take it the wrong way. "I'm afraid not, Kitten, everyone gets a vote in Family Council and everyone's vote is important." Then he dropped his voice into the soothing fatherly tone that always seemed to melt away her anxiety. "Relax, honey, just vote what's in your heart. This is your moment to honestly speak your mind."

He watched her become thoughtful again; he couldn't understand why she was having so much trouble saying no. The only answer his mind could come up with was that perhaps she was afraid a _no _vote would anger him. He longed to tell her that it was ok, that she could vote _no_ and he would completely understand, but he couldn't risk influencing her vote by saying something. Patience, he reminded himself, she's very young and emotionally overtaxed at the moment. Time was what she needed.

"Edward, are you still on the line?" she finally asked after a time. There was something odd in her voice that Carlisle couldn't quite put his finger on.

"I'm here, Sarah," his son answered.

"Are you ready?" A strange grin spread across her face and seeped into her voice as she asked.

There was a short pause before Edward answered her, but when he did, his voice purred with pure pleasure. "I'm always ready, Kitten. I was beginning to wonder when you were going to grace us with more of grand-mère Babineaux's famous pearls of wisdom. I was actually starting to miss them. Let's hear it . . . shoot."

"Alright, but remember my pronunciation can be a little off."

"There's nothing wrong with your diction, Sarah," Edward corrected her gently. "It's all in your head . . . now stop stalling."

"OK, here we go." She took a deep breath and Carlisle watched as she gathered herself before speaking again. _"_ Le mal triomphes quand les bons hommes ne font rien_."_

"Wow, that's quite a mouthful, Kitten," Edward was teasing her now. "You know, I had never heard the one about glass houses before, but I'm actually familiar with this one."

"What does it mean?" Esme insisted sharply.

"Oops, that's Mother's way of tell me to get to the point," Edward sighed. "Very well, it means _Evil triumphs when good men do nothing_."

That was surprising, Carlisle thought to himself. Of course, he too had heard the phrase before, it was a shortened version of a quote by Edmund Burke: _'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'_ He couldn't wait to see where Sarah was going with this.

"I was thirteen and my grand-mère took me into town to shop for my confirmation dress." Carlisle noted the distant look in her blind eyes as she began the story. "When we arrived at the department store and got out of the car, there was a couple arguing loudly in the parking lot. I couldn't make out everything, but I could hear the woman's desperate sobbing and the angry growl in every filthy curse word the man uttered. Grand-mère ushered me towards the front door and away from the scene, she knew it was upsetting me. To this day, I will never forget the sound of him slapping her or the sound of her answering scream as they accosted my ears just as we entered the store.

"I tried to push the angry shouts and the painful sound of the slap from my mind as we shopped, and eventually I succeeded. Later that evening, I was having dinner at my grandparents' house and the TV was on. A news story came on about a young woman found dead behind a dumpster not far from the department store. I don't know what my grand-mère was holding in her hands, but I heard it clatter to the floor and break. She began murmuring frantically under her breath in French; the only phrase I caught and understood was the one I just repeated.

"He killed her . . . the man in the parking lot . . . he killed that poor woman. If we had said something, if we had called the police . . . if we had told the department store security guard even, she might still be alive today."

Sarah fell silent for several moments, allowing Carlisle time to reflect. The amount of human memory retained after the transformation process was another subject that fascinated him. It varied greatly between individuals. Alice remembered little more than her name, while he remembered quite a lot. Bella remembered most of her past life, though she described those memories as being hazy, as if they belonged to someone else. Sarah, it would seem, recalled a great deal and in very vivid detail.

He watched as she took a breath and plunged in again.

"Grand-mère was right, evil triumphed that day because we chose to remain quiet . . . we chose to do nothing. The sound of the argument was frightening and the thought of getting involved made us uncomfortable.

"Good etiquette says you should mind your own business and their fight wasn't any of our business, so we walked away and hoped for the best." She paused and took several breaths. By her expression, Carlisle could tell this was very difficult for her. "_The best _didn't happen that day and that poor woman died as a result of our neglect.

"Papa, you said I should vote my heart, but if I do that . . . evil will triumph yet again because a good man will have done nothing. This isn't easy for me, my selfish heart screams _**no**_. I want to take you home and shove you in that same shoe box Aunt Olivia used to keep me in . . . but I can't."

If she were human he knew she would have been in tears by now, as it was she was shaking again. He wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and shush her quiet, but he held himself back and allowed her to finish. This was taking real courage on her part, and he couldn't be prouder of her.

"I want to vote **no,** Papa . . . but I can't. That woman's scream and my grand-mère's frantic murmurings continually fill my mind." She paused and he watched her swallow hard. "I want to vote **no **. . . but I can't because I promised myself that day that never again would I let evil triumph because _I did nothing_. I want to vote **no**, but I can't . . . because . . . I can't let the very best man among us . . ._ do nothing_."

She paused again.

Watching her struggle with this was agonizing for Carlisle but he didn't dare stop her. He now understood where it was all going and he was very proud of her. When she was calmer and they were alone, he would have to tell her so.

"_**Yes,**_ Papa," She finally whispered. "I vote **yes**. Accept the position and . . . ."

Carlisle was on his feet and hauling her into his embrace before she could say anything else. Her vote had been the biggest surprise of all; it definitely was not what he had expected when he first asked her. The fact that it took every ounce of courage she could muster wasn't lost on him either. She wanted to vote no with every fiber of her being, but she voted yes instead . . . because she knew she had too.

He hugged her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head before releasing her.

"Esme," he turned to his mate and found she was smiling just as broadly as he was. "I think our little girl is growing up."

"So it would seem." There was laughter in her voice as she answered.

He watched as Esme got up and joined him, wrapping an arm around Sarah's other shoulder. Instantly, he noticed their little girl snuggle into her mother's side. The deep bond between the two of them still amazed him.

"Well," he straightened before speaking. "It looks like we have a tie vote, so I guess . . . ."

"Hold on, Carlisle," Edward's voice over the phone interrupted. "After listening to Sarah, I think I'd like to change my vote . . . to yes. Accept the position."

This was a surprising development and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"You know, now that I think about it," Jasper's voice took up, "I have to agree. You're always preaching about duty, and doing the right thing. I think our little sister has the right spirit . . . I'm changing my vote, too . . . to yes."

Stunned didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling, nothing like this had ever happened in council before.

"Actually, now that you mentioned it," Rose began next, "I think I might have been just a tad bit hasty in my earlier decision . . . I would like to retract my earlier vote and change it to a yes."

He was beaming now as he turned to Esme. Her smile matched his own. "What do you say, my love, will you make it unanimous?"

Though she was smiling now, he still read hints of trepidation behind his mate's honey-gold eyes. He would have to tell her later, when they had some private time, that she wasn't alone in that. He felt it, too.

Finally, she nodded as she answered in a clear voice. "Yes Carlisle, accept the position as Prolocutor of the High Council with the full backing and blessing of the entire Cullen family."

His family had once again exceeded all his expectations as they rose up with unified dignity to meet life's challenge. He looked at each precious face in the room, and called to mind those of his sons thousands of miles away and his chest swelled with pride. How he would ever manage to properly and thoroughly express what he was feeling toward them remained a mystery.

"Thank you." It was all he could say and it wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do for the moment.

* * * *

Later, as they followed Jane back to the audience chamber, Carlisle still found his mind reeling from the events that had taken place in his room. His little Sarah had done it yet again; with a simple phrase and a heartfelt explanation, she changed everything. Wisdom flowed from her mouth like water from an artesian well. He found himself smiling at this thought; he would have to keep that in mind as the new Prolocutor of the High Council. Perhaps he could borrow some of _grand-mère Babineaux's famous pearls of wisdom_ for those extra tricky Council meetings.

Life for him and his family was about to get very interesting. He felt strangely excited and a little nervous too, but he didn't feel fear at all. He strolled confidently into the audience chamber with Esme on one arm and Sarah on the other. His other three daughters flanked him and his sons held him securely in their thoughts.

Carlisle cast a glance at Benjamin, who stood next to shaggy lupine Seth, and he couldn't help the grin that turned the corners of his mouth up. Then his thoughts turned to the rest of his friends who walked behind him and those that might be watching these events over the internet. His confidence swelled.

He now stood on the precipice of a new horizon and what lay beyond it was yet to be seen, but he knew without a doubt that he could face it. With his wonderful family at his side and his good friends backing him, he could handle anything the Volturi or the fledgling Vampire Nation threw his way.

_And secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity_, the phrase rang like the Liberty Bell in his head. That's what it all boiled down too, and liberty didn't come cheaply. It would cost him and his family a great deal, in time, in anxious moments, in periods of worried separation, and in long hours of deep debate over weighty issues. But it was worth the price, not just for him and his own, but for the countless generations to come after them until time was no more.

"What have you decided?" Tobias asked when the room was settled.

He took a deep breath and a final look at the faces of his family and friends before he answered. "I accept your nomination as Prolocutor of the High Council."


	20. Chapter 20

**Note:** I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 19

**Excursion**

Four days had passed since their arrival in Volterra. While Carlisle and Ben continued their work with the new constitution, Sarah, her mother, her sisters and their witnesses were hosted in grand style by the Volturi wives. Lavish accommodations were afforded to everyone. While Papa and Esme had Papa's room, the four Cullen sisters were given a massive suite to share.

Alice was so excited, Sarah would have sworn she was sixteen again and having her first sleepover.

"This is going to be great!" Alice squealed. "Just us girls, all together . . . wow!"

"_Wow_, that's not quite the sentiment I would use," Bella grumped. The harpsichord in her voice played a sullen melody.

"What are you talking about?" Alice's piccolo twittered. "This is going to be fun!"

"Uhm, Alice . . . I hate to rain on your parade," Rose sighed, "but there's nothing fun about being cooped up in a musty old castle full of musty old Volturi. I swear, if I have to spend one more second listening to Sulpicia go on about Aro's antique collection, I'm going to scream."

"What do you think Sarah?" Alice's voice oozed honey and sunshine. "It could be fun . . . the four of us together . . . right?"

Sarah took a deep breath and sighed. She loved her zany sister, Alice, more than words and she didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she had to agree with Bella and Rose.

"The four of us as roommates . . . yes, that could be fun," she began reluctantly, "if we weren't staying in the House of Usher as the honored guests of Freddie Kruger, Jason and the Crypt Keeper."

She heard Bella burst out laughing; a stern growl from Alice made her stop.

"You have to admit, Alice," Bella said, trying not to giggle as she spoke, "Sarah has a point, especially the House of Usher part . . . this place just screams haunted house. It's downright oppressive."

"Who said we were going to _stay_ in the castle?" Alice purred, "especially with all the gorgeous countryside to explore and . . . ."

"Uhm, hello!" Rose interrupted. "Earth to Alice . . . do you really think Carlisle, let alone the Volturi, are going to just give us permission to roam around."

"Oh Rose, my dear misinformed sister," Alice sighed, "you're assuming we're going to ask permission."

The room fell silent and Sarah could tell Rose and Bella were staring at each other. It didn't take long for Alice to check the weather forecast; the suite had a plasma screen that dominated one wall. Sarah could tell when Alice turned it on by the click of the remote, the new technology, unlike her aunt's old analog set, didn't crackle when it came on. Soon the monotone voice of the Weather Chanel's meteorologist, in Italian, filled the room. Sarah couldn't understand a word he said but Alice was as fluent as a native.

"Excellent!" Alice hummed. "Overcast all day but no rain until tonight. Perfect shopping weather."

"I thought we were going sightseeing?" Sarah could tell Bella was just a little annoyed.

With the exception of the few boutiques they had hit at JFK, Sarah had never actually been shopping with Alice, but she'd heard rumors. According to Jasper, if shopping were an Olympic sport, Alice would be a multiple gold medalist. Dread settled into her chest like a damp fog.

"Silly Bella, we are going sightseeing," Alice replied smartly. "It's called window shopping."

A half hour later, they were making their way through the maze of corridors on their way to the front exit. Sarah clung to Bella's elbow as they walked behind Alice and Rose. Alice had spent the last twenty minutes with the local rental car agent trying to acquire something more fashionable to drive than a white panel van. According to the agent, their chariot would arrive outside within the next ten minutes.

They had just reached the door that lead to the lobby when the sound of bright cathedral bells boomed behind them. Sarah heard Alice curse softly under her breath.

"There you are," her father's voice echoed from down the hall. "I've been looking all over for you." He was beside them now and his voice was as brilliant as a ray of sunshine. "What are the four of you up to? You weren't planning on going out . . . were you?"

Busted, Sarah's inner voice whispered at the back of her mind. She turned her head and tried not to look guilty as Alice lied to their father.

"Well, it's a wonderful overcast day," Alice began cheerfully. "We thought we might poke around the city."

Sarah's stomach turned itself into knots as she listened. She knew full well they were going out of town. She wasn't necessarily opposed to lying but the thought of lying to her parents, whom she loved dearly, raked at her. Her discomfort must have been obvious because she heard her father clear his throat. She began to tremble just a little and instantly her father's arm was around her shoulder as he pulled her gently into his side.

"Is that so?" Papa's voice was level and calm. "Well judging by Sarah's reaction, I would be inclined not to believe you. Where are the four of you off to?"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. She had gotten them into trouble and it was up to her to get them out of it. A notion had occurred to her when Alice mentioned shopping and she had meant to bring it up in the car anyway. Now, she guessed, was just as good a time to toss it into the ring.

"Papa," she whispered from against his side.

"Yes, honey, what is it?" Softness played through the bells.

"Don't be angry, but we were planning to go to Florence for the day."

"Poking around the city indeed," her father growled.

"Wait, Papa, it's not their fault," she insisted. "They were doing it for me."

"Sarah, you don't have to take the blame for your sisters," he scolded. "Now I want the four of you . . . ."

"No, Papa, please," she interrupted him. "Alice says Italy is the very best place . . . to buy . . . a beautiful wedding dress."

There was another long pause before her father spoke again and as he did he hugged her a little tighter. "Of course . . . I should have thought of that, but all of the goings on with the Council and the new government have my mind spinning like a top. Why didn't you just say so when I asked Alice? You didn't have to lie about it."

"Well," her sister took up. "We wanted to surprise you and Esme and, of course . . . the lucky groom. You won't tell Ben, will you . . . that would spoil everything."

"I wouldn't want to do that." The cathedral bells held a distinct smile.

Though he kept his arm around her shoulder, she felt her father shift and then she heard the sound of smooth leather sliding against fabric as he drew his wallet from his back pocket. He turned her loose and she listened as he rummaged through the wallet's contents. Finally he pressed a plastic card into Sarah's hand.

"This is my personal credit card, Sarah," he told her as he closed her hand over the card. "On the off chance the Volturi didn't kill me, it's the only account that I didn't freeze. No one has access to this account but me, not even Esme. I want you to take it, and when you find the dress that suits you and makes you happy, I want you to buy it."

She pushed the card back toward him. "No, Papa, I was going to buy the dress."

"Heaven forbid." A raised eyebrow echoed through the bells. "You're my daughter Sarah Cullen, and no daughter of mine is going to purchase her own wedding dress. That's the responsibility of your mother and me. Call me old fashioned if you like, but I feel very strongly about this . . . and I know Esme would feel the same."

She suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside and she smiled as she threw her arms around her father and hugged him.

"I'm glad you decided to be sensible," he whispered as he stroked her hair. "This was not an argument I intended to let you win. Now, off with the lot of you . . . and do be careful."

* * * *

Florence was a bustling old world city. The sounds around her were captivating, once she lowered the volume of her hearing so that it didn't hurt her ears, that is. The sing song melody of the locals as they spoke was of special interest to her. She couldn't understand a word of Italian, in spite of countless trips to the opera with her aunt, but still she loved it.

Except for her recent air travel experience, this was her first time being around large numbers of humans since her transformation. In the car, Rose had expressed some concern over this, but Alice insisted her visions didn't hold anything unusual. Just the same, her sisters gave her a crash course in how to deal with situations that might arise.

"Hold your breath," Bella offered, "if the scent of them becomes too much for you. You won't like not breathing, but it works and it's better than killing someone and regretting it later."

"How long can I hold my breath?" She had never tried it and assumed she needed to breathe since she did it effortlessly.

"Indefinitely," Alice had answered from the front seat. "You don't really need to breathe except to speak and scent your prey."

That revelation had set her mind to spinning. They told her other things, like not to focus on heart beats, they could be just as seductive as scents. Try to remember that she was once human herself; it seemed a solid connection with her past humanity would help her avoid temptation. And above all, she was to let her sisters know if, at anytime, she was becoming too overwhelmed. They promised to get her out of town quickly.

The four of them had been in the city for several hours now and Sarah felt fine. The scent of humans didn't bother her at all; she didn't find it even slightly appealing. She knew exactly what they tasted like and she much preferred elk.

Shopping with Alice was like the New York Marathon, an Olympic Pentathlon, and the Iron Man competition all rolled into one. If she were still human, Sarah guessed she would have dropped dead from exhaustion within the first hour. It was mid-afternoon now and they were coming out of their twentieth store, the eleventh bridal shop they visited. Sarah felt like she'd tried on at least a hundred different wedding dresses, but she hadn't found . . ._ the one _yet. She couldn't tell if Alice admired her for being finicky or if she was annoyed that Sarah couldn't make up her mind.

"Don't worry," Bella soothed, seeming to sense her frustration, "I had just as hard a time myself, until I caught a vision of what I wanted. Alice did the rest after that."

"What was your vision?" Sarah asked. She'd heard how beautiful Bella's wedding had been.

"Well," Bella began, "Edward was born in 1901 and he's sort of old fashioned. He even gave me his mother's engagement and wedding rings. The dress and the wedding decorations revolved around those themes . . . but in truth, I didn't pick the dress, Alice did. I loved it the minute I saw it though."

Sarah walked quietly for a while, thinking as she went. Two things played over and over in her head, Ben's use of the word _milady_ and a statement he made the first time he took her hunting; _"I was then and I remain to this day a Knight of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem." _The next thing that drifted through her mind was the sound of her dad's warm voice as he told her bedtime stories about King Arthur and his heroic Knights of the Round Table. Sarah found herself sighing loudly as a rush of warmth flooded her. She now knew what she wanted.

"Alice," Sarah called. She heard her sister gasp loudly.

"Ohh, how deliciously romantic," Alice cooed from a little ways in front of her. "I absolutely _loooove_ it! I don't know why I didn't think of that. A medieval castle wedding fit for a noble Knight and his Lady fair." She heard Alice squeal. "This is going to be so much fun!"

"I want to give input, Alice," Sarah insisted. The amount of enthusiasm in Alice's voice made her a tad concerned that her well-intentioned sister might get carried away. "Don't just go hog wild on me."

"Of course not, Kitten." Her impish sister dropped back and put an arm around her shoulder. "This is your party, I wouldn't think of . . . well, actually I would, but since you asked me nicely not too . . . I won't fly off on a tangent. I promise you'll be involved in all the planning unless you say otherwise."

With a more concrete idea of what Sarah wanted in mind they visited another bridal store. Unfortunately the designer didn't have anything in her collection that matched what they were looking for. The woman who owned the shop was quite taken by the ideas Sarah and Alice described and she kindly gave Alice the names and phone numbers of two of her colleagues who specialized in the sort of custom dress they were looking for.

They continued their day of window shopping until it started to get late. On the way back to the parking garage where they had left the rental car, Alice insisted on stopping at a quaint little boutique they had passed earlier that morning.

"Jazz wired me some mad money from my cookie jar," she told them when they arrived in front of the shop. "There's an outfit in there that I've just got to have."

Sarah was relieved when Bella and Rose decided to wait outside while Alice got her fix. She was sure if she had to go into just one more shop with Alice there would be a murder. Instead, the three sisters found a nice quiet bench to wait on.

While her two sisters engaged in small talk, Sarah entertained herself with her brand of people watching. She was focused on a woman buying ice cream from a street vendor for her three small children when Bella interrupted her.

"There's a cool looking antique shop across the street," Bella told her. "Rose and I are going to check it out, do you want to come?"

Sarah shook her head. "If I have to go into one more shop, I'm going to scream. Alice should open up a rehab center for shopaholics. The aversion therapy of a day spent at the mall with her would be sure to put them off shopping for life."

Both sisters giggled then Bella assured her they wouldn't be long. Sarah listened to her sisters' footsteps as they crossed the narrow street before turning her ears back to people watching.

She reached for the tuning knob in her mind and waded through the sea of stations. She flipped from one to the next, channel surfing through them, not really looking for anything. The mother and children she had been listening to earlier were happily on their way to the park. She changed channels and briefly listened to a street musician playing the violin for tourists; he was very good. Another adjustment to the knob and she heard the sound of cooking, the woman in her kitchen hummed to herself as she worked. Sarah continued to shuffle through the stations until something very faint and in English caught her attention.

Slowly she turned up the volume and adjusted the reception. The voice belonged to a frightened boy.

"Please," the boy croaked, "I want to go home . . . I want my Mom and Dad."

"Shut up!" an angry male voice bellowed. The she heard the harsh sound of the man's fist as it made contact with the boy's face. Her stomach threatened to turn as she heard the boy's nasal bone shatter. The lion awakened to growl deep within her, even as her grand-mère's voice murmured franticly in French. _Evil triumphs_, she thought to herself as she got up from the bench and began to follow the voice of the boy.

Using a combination of her sound vision, her trusty cane, and the sound of the boy's mind, she soon found herself at the head of an ally. A breeze stirred and she got a glimpse of the narrow opening. Cautiously she stepped around the corner and immediately she found herself behind a dumpster. Further up the ally she could hear the boy, he was whimpering as the man dragged him along. The gruff voice of the first man she'd heard was now joined by the raspy voice of a second. They spoke to each other rapidly in Italian; Sarah wished Alice was with her so she would know what they were saying.

"I want to go home," the boy protested, pain filling his frail voice.

"I told you to shut up, you little turd," the gruff-voiced man grunted as he slapped the boy again. Sarah heard the lion roar for release.

She listened with one ear as the men shoved the whimpering boy into their car. Evil was not going to triumph today. She propped her cane against the brick wall before slipping behind the dumpster, she emerged from behind it again as the tawny lioness. The car was gone, but tracking it was an easy matter, their scent and the frightened boy's mental signature were committed to her memory for all time. Soon she was slipping in and out of the shadows as she tracked her prey.

* * * *

It was late evening, the negotiations ended hours earlier, and Carlisle sat with Esme enjoying some much needed alone time with his mate. Nothing fancy, just peace and quiet and a movie on the plasma screen. He truly would have missed this had Aro killed him. He pulled his mate in closer and began nuzzling her favorite spot just below her earlobe. That was another thing he would have missed had he died at the triad's hands, he sighed to himself.

He was just starting to plant light kisses under Esme's ear when a heavy knock came at the door. At first he ignored it, but the knock became more insistent. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from his wife, took one last longing look into her honey-gold eyes, and moved to answer the door.

Carlisle expected to greet his exuberant daughters back from a spree in Florence. When he opened the door, he found Ben on the other side wearing an expression of gloom and doom. Under other circumstances he might have found it amusing, but at the moment he found it unnerving.

"Have you heard from the girls?" Ben asked briskly even as Carlisle stepped aside to let the man into the room. "I've tried to call Sarah three times in the last hour; she's not picking up her cell phone."

"No I haven't heard from the girls," Carlisle answered. He wasn't really worried, it was only seven thirty in the evening and they were most likely on the road even now.

"Would you call them please?" Ben insisted. "I'd do it myself, but I don't have any of their numbers."

"I'm sure they're on their way home as we speak Ben," he assured his long time friend. "Honestly, you're being just a little overprotective."

For a moment, Carlisle's mind drifted back to when Edward and Bella were newly mates. While she was still a human, Edward worried over her to the point of obsession. It hadn't lessened any with their marriage. Only now did his son seem remotely relaxed when Bella was away from his sight.

"Humor me," Ben growled. "Give them a call."

Carlisle shook his head and sighed as he walked to the coffee table to retrieve his phone. As he reached for it, the caller ID screen lit up and the phone began vibrating. He smiled at the name on the tiny screen and he held up the phone for Ben to see.

"It's Bella," he announced proudly, "probably calling to tell me they're on their way."

Ben only glared at him so Carlisle answered the phone. "Bella, my dear, how are you?"

His face instantly dropped and his mood shifted from contented to apprehensive as he listened to the story Bella was rapidly telling him. He turned quickly, not wishing to face either Ben or Esme as he wrapped his mind around what he was hearing.

"How did this happen?" He couldn't help the annoyance in his voice.

"We don't know exactly," Bella answered. "We found her cane propped against a wall and her clothes in shreds behind the dumpster. Hold on, Alice wants to talk to you."

He waited for Alice to come on the line.

"Carlisle, you need to bring your bag," Alice told him plainly. "The images Sarah's feeding me are gruesome and the boy she's following is in a very bad way. Meet us at the _Basilica di San Lorenzo_; it's not far from the scent trail we've been following."

"Is she hunting this boy?" He was shocked but not all together surprised. Sarah was a newborn after all and while she exhibited extraordinary control around humans, this sort of thing was to be expected in the beginning.

"No, she's not hunting the boy . . . but I fear for his two kidnappers." Alice's voice was grim. "They are the source of the boy's suffering and every time he whimpers I hear Sarah growl inside my mind. My visions are still cloudy concerning the outcome, but I'm afraid she might kill them."

________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** though I don't tell you in this chapter, I already have the location of Sarah and Ben's wedding picked out. I have the SneakyHobo to thank for that, she was a great help!!!

Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews, keep them coming.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note :** I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 20

**I Am Fear**

Sarah stalked from one shadow to the next with the grace that was inherent to all cats. Her silent paws carried her with unnatural speed along the narrow alleys as she followed the scent of her prey. She wasn't reckless in her pursuit; the focus of her vast mind was split between monitoring the boy, feeding information to Alice, and scanning for any nearby humans. Avoiding detection by the locals was just as important to her as finding and rescuing the frightened boy.

She was very concerned for the little one now. The uni-dimensionality of the human mind made it easy for Sarah to tell the boy had slipped into unconsciousness. He was also having difficulty breathing, in part because of his broken nose but also because of illness. She'd caught his scent and tasted it with her Jacobson's organ in the alley; the boy suffered from asthma and was in desperate need of his inhaler. She didn't need to be a doctor, like her father, to know that his situation wasn't good.

The scent trail wound through the heart of the old city until it brought her to a more remote industrialized area. She finally found the car used by the two thugs parked outside a warehouse near what looked to be an abandoned factory. She remained in the shadows, scanning her surroundings with both her eyes and her mind. She detected the presence of four humans inside the warehouse, the boy and three adult human males.

Slowly she slipped from the shadows and dashed across the open expanse towards the shelter of several stacks of shipping pallets to the right of the building. Her assessment of the building's façade showed only two entry ways, a second story office door accessible by a rusty set of stairs and a large roll up freight door. Both were shut tight and entirely too obvious anyway.

Sarah took her time wandering the perimeter of the building. She allowed her eyes to wash over the exterior for possible ways in. Though she was anxious to get inside, she managed to wall that emotion off and maintain a level head. On the back side of the warehouse, she found the break she was looking for; high on what looked to be the third floor was a small open window.

Stacks of steel drums and old shipping pallets gave Sarah a make-shift ladder to climb, but it left her several feet short of the window. She stood on her hind legs and braced her forepaws against the corrugated steel wall. Her nose and eyes barely cleared the window ledge giving her only a limited view within; she could see nothing but the open metal rafters and a few light fixtures. Mentally, she sighed with frustration as she sat down on her haunches to think.

Irritation made her tail twitch as she glanced back up at the window, so close and yet so far. She could jump through it of course, but she didn't know what, if anything, was on the other side. As a vampire, a fall wouldn't injure her and she doubted it would cause her harm in her shape-shifted form either, but the noise would alert her prey.

Just then she noticed something she hadn't before. From her current angle, she could see an open skylight on the building's roof. It was an easy leap to the top of the building for her from her current perch. In an instant she was padding across the rooftop to peer in through the skylight. A shaft of silver moonlight illuminated a narrow catwalk almost twenty feet directly below the opening. Inwardly she smiled as she calculated the distance and launched herself into the air.

* * * *

Carlisle cursed himself mentally as he drove the rental van at a ridiculous speed along the narrow, twisting road. What was she thinking, he wondered angrily, and why had she gone off on her own? He couldn't help his irritated growl . . . the whole sordid affair was his own fault, and he knew it.

He had given his blessing to his daughters' excursion into Florence in the first place. Deep down, he knew better than to place his three older daughters in charge of their younger sister but he couldn't help himself. When Sarah mentioned shopping for a wedding dress, his fatherly heart melted like ice in mid-summer heat. Sarah was his baby girl . . . Daddy's little girl . . . and there was precious little she could ask for that he wouldn't bend over backwards to try and give her. Only his beloved mate held more sway over him than his youngest child.

Carlisle cast a brief sideways glance at his wife, her features showed her worry. He should have insisted that they take Esme along but he thought that Bella, having experience as a parent, might be able to handle her younger sister. It wasn't that Sarah was bad, quite the contrary, she was very well-behaved for a newborn. In fact, she tended to be what psychologists called a _people pleaser_. She wanted nothing more than to make those she loved happy. But . . . and it was a very big but . . . she also tended towards being impetuous and unpredictable, especially when her emotions got the better of her.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, drawing him from his thoughts. When he answered it Alice's voice greeted him.

"How close are you?" Alice asked flatly. "Sarah's located the warehouse where they're holding the boy and she's found a way inside."

"What do you see?" He wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"Still unclear," she replied, "I don't think she has a solid idea of how she plans to proceed. She wants to help the boy, it seems to be her sole purpose, and the men holding him are just in the way." Then Alice paused, and in that short span of two breaths, a chill ran up his spine. "Carlisle, you need to hurry. The boy is unconscious and having difficulty breathing . . . she's contemplating biting him."

"God in heaven," he moaned.

* * * *

Sarah made her way along the catwalk until she found a set of stairs. Slowly she crept down them as she kept her hearing tuned on the three thugs and the boy. The new member of the gang spoke English with a thick British accent. This forced his companions to speak English, too, as their comrade obviously didn't know much Italian.

She kept a part of her mind focused on them, listening as they played cards. With another part of her vast mind, she listened to the boy, his breathing was ragged and he was wheezing. His heart beat was wildly erratic. Concern filled her heart even as rage washed through the rest of her. How could these men sit there idly playing cards while this poor child barely clung to life? The growl that rumbled from her throat made the windows in the building rattle.

"Did you hear that?" the Englishman asked. She could smell his nervousness.

"It's just an airplane," the gruff-voiced Italian answered. "We're close to the airport."

"That was no airplane," the Englishman insisted. "My brother is a pilot with the RAF. I know planes of every sort when I hear them and that . . ."

"Enough!" the raspy-voiced one hissed. "You watch too many horror movies . . . they fill your head with ghosts and ghouls and make you spook easy . . . like an old woman."

The two Italians started laughing and Sarah heard the Englishman sigh. The conversation ended and they went back to cards, but the seed of an idea was planted and growing.

From the deep shadows she watched them. Their table and chairs occupied the only well-lit corner in the vast warehouse. The rest of the interior was cast into pitch blackness that was punctuated by occasional shafts of moonlight from the open skylights. Just such a moonlit patch fell halfway between her hiding place and the thugs. A wicked smile curled her feline lips. Moonlight, like sunlight, sparkled in pearlescent hues when it was reflected off her tawny coat . . . but the moon's effect was much more eerie.

On silent paws she crept forward until she stood in the square patch of silver light. She roared softly, but still the windows shook. When the three men turned to face her, their complexions instantly blanched. They tripped over themselves and cursed under their breath as they rushed to put the card table between them and the luminous apparition.

"Bloody hell!" she heard the Englishman hiss. He stood slack jawed while the two Italians crossed themselves in an effort to ward off the presence of evil.

Mentally she laughed, her appearance was having the desired effect, but she wanted more. They were scared, she wanted them terrified. Sarah roared again, this time louder.

One of the Italians got up the nerve to pull his gun. She hadn't considered this. Papa pierced her thick lion hide with a large gauge needle; a bullet might just as easily do the same. Fortunately the thug was so frightened that he couldn't shoot straight and he emptied his gun's entire clip without coming close to her. Sarah didn't even flinch.

"You're the ghost expert, what the hell is that _thing_?" the gruff-voiced one asked.

"I don't know," the Englishman whined, "some kind of poltergeist . . . maybe."

"_I am the howl of the wind in the trees on a dark, stormy night." _As she projected her words into their minds, a constant window-rattling growl rumbled from her throat. _"I am the creak of footsteps outside your bedroom door when you're home alone. I am the eyes that watch you from the deep shadows of empty alleys, waiting for the moment to strike. I am the icy blast that instantly chills a room and then vanishes just as quickly as it came. I am the voice that speaks to you from the darkness and calls your name. I am a scream. I am a shiver. I am the chill that runs up your spine . . . I am __**fear!**__ And tonight you shall know me better."_

As she finished the last line she projected a roar at a painful volume into their minds even as she let the same sound escape her mouth. It made the whole warehouse shake and the ground beneath their feet tremble.

* * * *

They were racing down a narrow alley; the warehouse was in sight ahead of them, when Carlisle heard gunshots. His already dead heart turned to lead in his chest. If Sarah was in her natural form, her vampire form, bullets would have no effect on her. In the shape-shifted form, however, injury couldn't be ruled out. That would mean he might have two injured to deal with and, if given the choice between saving a nameless boy or saving his little girl . . . his selfishness would prevail.

Carlisle and his family were picking up their pace when they were stopped in their tracks by the mother of all roars. Like an earthquake, it traveled in waves and shook everything around them. Windows shattered, burglar alarms went off and he found himself knocked to the ground by the force of it. When the shaking ceased and everything was quiet again, he hauled himself from the ground and they moved on.

For the first time in his 300 plus years of existence, Carlisle truly knew the meaning of fear. Not even facing his immediate demise at the hands of the Volturi had he know such a haunting force. It had a taste that coated his tongue and a smell that filled his senses to the exclusion of everything else. It had a physical presence that weighed on him in both mind and body. It was a cold heaviness that spread through him, slowing the movement of his limbs. It made time crawl along in impossibly painful seconds. Fear was a real and palpable thing and that knowledge made him shudder. Fear was the horrible wrath of his youngest daughter . . . unbridled and unbound.


	22. Chapter 22

**_NOTE:_** I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 21

**Angels & Dragons**

"Shoot!" the gruff-voiced Italian urged his raspy-voiced companion. His own gun was already empty and useless. "Shoot, damn it . . . what are you waiting for?"

Sarah watched the thin raspy-voiced man take aim, his hand trembled so much it was a wonder he could hold his weapon. When he finally managed to squeeze the trigger, the bullet whizzed past her wide and to the right.

"You're wasting your time," the Englishman whined. Of the three, he was the most petrified; she could hear his heart thundering in his chest. "You can't kill a ghost!"

"Ghost or demon, I don't care . . . just shoot it, Figaro!!"

"What if it's neither, Alberto?" the raspy-voiced Figaro whimpered. "What if it is a creature of dark magic . . . like the lions from the Vientiane Arsenal brought to life by a foul wizard to do his bidding."

Sarah vaguely remembered hearing Alice tell a story about the stone lions in front of the arsenal in Venice being brought to life, much like the golem of Jewish legend. Unlike the golem, however, the protection of God's holy nation was not the stone lions' purpose. According to the account, the lions did the bidding of their vengeful master by murdering several people whom he had grievances against.

"Superstitious idiot, you're as bad as the Englishman," Alberto growled as he snatched the gun from his partner and took aim. His hand was more steady this time as his finger wrapped around the trigger, he was recovering faster from his fright than the others. That wasn't going to do, she thought, time to crank things up a notch.

Before the gruff-voiced Alberto could fire the gun, Sarah closed the distance between them until she stood before the trio with her forepaws braced against the card table. She moved so quickly that, to the humans she was menacing, it would have appeared that, in the blink of an eye, she had vanished from one spot and materialized in another. She leaned in close to them and roared softly. The Englishman nearly fainted as a telling patch of dampness spread across the front of his trousers.

Sarah's amber eyes locked with Alberto's cinnamon ones, a newfound sense of fear had him frozen. He still held the gun in his outstretched hand, ready to shoot. She opened her huge maw and gingerly wrapped it around the barrel of the 9mm Glock. Deliberately, she allowed Alberto to feel both her icy breath and the cold wetness of her venom-laced saliva against his warm human skin. When she bit down on the barrel of the gun a satisfying metallic crunch echoed in her ears as it disintegrated under the assault of her powerful teeth.

When she pulled her massive head back, Alberto held only the nub of what used to be Figaro's gun. The man's eyes went wide with yet another wave of fear.

Sarah's wrath was a rising tide within her that threatened to pull her under its seductive current. Bullies disgusted her beyond words. They were cowards, every last one of them, and they hid their insufficiencies by causing pain and misery to others.

Yes, she thought smugly, that's exactly how your victims feel, that's how the boy felt when you broke his nose and shoved him in your car. How do you like tasting your own medicine, she mused with a mental purr?

There was something bigger, badder, and stronger that Alberto and his gang in the world and he now stood eyeball to eyeball with that force. A heady euphoria washed over Sarah as she contemplated this fact . . . never again would evil triumph, not so long as she walked the earth. A new, even fiercer roar tore its way from her throat, reverberating off everything around her and shaking the building to its foundation.

Sarah was only vaguely aware of the Englishman and Figaro as they fled. Her control was on the verge of collapse as the edges of her vision turned crimson. The desire to rescue the boy and teach these three thugs a lesson was growing dim in her mind as more and more of the beast within her surfaced. Venom pooled in her mouth and dripped from her snarling lips. She couldn't take her eyes off Alberto as her rage and her thirst comingled to form a single entity.

Sarah leapt across the table, knocking Alberto to the ground with the force of her momentum. She held him pinned under her forepaws as she gazed deeply into his eyes; they were swirling brown pools of liquid fear. She purred with delight. Her gaze drifted to the soft flesh at the crook of his neck where she watched with thirst-ridden fascination as his wild pulse pounded beneath his bronze skin. Mentally, she moaned with the need to sate the burning in her throat. That moan translated into a low hungry growl.

She inhaled deeply, filling her nose with the scent of her prey, the thick tantalizing perfume of human blood combined with abject fear. It was intoxicating. She parted her feline lips in an odd sort of grimace in order to draw the wonderful fragrance across her Jacobson's organ. The sensation made her whole body tingle with anticipation. Her imagination indulged the notion of ripping Alberto's throat open and then lapping up every last drop of his vermillion flow. She opened her mouth and lowered her head toward his tender flesh.

The whimper that tickled her ears was faint and frail, but it wasn't coming from the man she held firmly beneath her massive paws. She ignored it as her rough tongue washed over the place she was about to bite, even his skin tasted good. She heard the whimper again and it tore at her mind even as she tried to focus on feeding. She was forgetting something but that something was hidden behind the veil of blood red haze. Her tongue washed over her prey's neck again and her teeth gently grazed against the soft flesh.

"Mama," a pitiful voice . . . a child's voice called. "Mama, where are you? Help me."

Sarah felt something inside her shift as a long-forgotten memory surfaced. She was eight years old, alone, scared, and in intense pain, adrift on a sea of black velvet blindness. Lost somewhere deep in the Louisiana swamp, her own hoarse voice choked out those same words. Though she didn't know it at the time, she had called them in vain, her mother was already dead. Sadness settled into her stone cold heart.

"Mama . . . please help," the boy called faintly from the dirty mattress several feet away. He was resting on his back, eyes closed, delirious, and struggling to breathe.

The blood lust that had filled her to the exclusion of all else moments earlier faded. She turned back to the man under her paws and fixed him with a hard stare.

"_Rejoice and be glad, the mercy of Heaven smiles upon you this day," _she drilled into Alberto's head loudly. She wanted his undivided attention. She wanted him to remember her words. _"You will leave this place and find the nearest church and there you shall submit yourself to the priest and confess to him every filthy iniquity you have ever committed! You will do whatever penance he requires of you . . . with zeal . . . and from that moment until your heart takes its last beat, you will live the life of a good and righteous man." _She paused and growled as she lowered her head until her nose leather touched the end of his nose. _"Every child under Heaven belongs to the Most High God, they are His precious lambs. If ever again you should hurt one of these, I shall return and finish damning your soul to the inner most circle of hell!" _

When she pulled back and looked into his cinnamon eyes she knew she'd made the desired impression. She jumped back from him and darted to the patch of moonlight. To the human, her actions would appear instantaneous, as if she had once again vanished and reappeared. His eyes went wide again as he gazed at her luminous form. If only she had wings and a fiery sword she would be the picture of an avenging angel.

She growled again causing Alberto to dash for the nearest exit. Her eyes never left him until he finally burst through the door and into the night. As she continued to listen to his escape, Sarah turned her attention to the boy. She wanted to go to him, but not in her present form. Her eyes scoured her surroundings until she found what she required, four grubby blue jumpsuits hung on pegs near the door to the men's restroom. She took one of the jumpsuits as well as a push broom in her mouth and carried them into the shadows behind some crates.

When she emerged from the shadows again she was walking on two legs instead of four and using the handle of the push broom for a makeshift cane. The jumpsuit was too big on her and it smelled of grease and sweat, but it covered her nakedness.

When she reached the mattress she knelt down and paused to listen to the boy's pulse and respiration, both were labored. From her high school health class, she recalled some of the basic first aid she learned. Though the memory was a bit vague she thought elevating the head and shoulders was good for helping someone with a compromised airway. Papa wasn't there to consult but she felt she needed to do something.

She slipped her hands under the boy's head and shoulders and lifted him gently until she was able to slide under him, taking his frail upper body into her lap. Memories of Esme's soft singing filled her mind and she began to hum one of her nameless melodies.

"Mama?" the boy whimpered softly.

"Shhh," she paused her humming to shush him quiet. With everything in her she tried to imagine what Esme would do if she were holding this little one? "It's ok, you're safe now. Those men will never hurt you again." She said it softly and suppressed her urge to growl at the memory of the three thugs, and then she added, "What's your name?"

For the span of several breaths there was no answer and she feared he'd slipped back under the tide of unconsciousness. When he spoke his voice held the distinct notes of awe and wonder.

"Are you . . . an Angel?" he asked between gasps.

"Why do you ask?" she inquired with a giggle.

"Because . . . you're so beautiful . . . and you're glowing," he answered.

Sarah smiled; she must still be reflecting the moonlight. She couldn't tell him the truth of course, that fact had been impressed upon her since the first day of her new life. Humans could never know their secret. Still, she felt the need to tell him something. Her smile broadened as the answer came to her . . . courtesy of Papa.

"No, I'm not an Angel," she whispered as she stroked his forehead. "What would you say if I told you I was . . . a dragon?"

"Awesome!" he breathed, "But . . . you don't look . . . like a dragon."

"Oh really," she put on a fake pout. "And just what does our resident dragon expert think that I _should _look like?"

"Well . . . more reptile like . . . and with scales and . . ." He struggled to get his breath and Sarah felt bad for having him talk so much. "And where are your wings?"

"Not all dragons have wings," she corrected gently. "Now if you'll relax and try to control your breathing, I'll tell you about it."

He nodded and made an effort to take several deep even breaths.

"Very good. Now, before I begin, what's your name?"

"Bartholomew," he answered. His voice sounded a little embarrassed. "But call me Bart, please. Do you have a name? I'll bet . . . it's something . . . cool."

"Relax Bart, take deep even breaths," she reminded him. Instantly he responded and she smiled.

A name she thought, nothing would have pleased her more than to tell him her name, but somehow she sensed that was out of the question.

"I can't tell you my real name, it's a dragon thing." She answered him sadly. "But I'll tell you my by-name."

"What's a . . . by-name?"

Ben had explained by-names to her a few days ago. It was common before the widespread use of surnames. Wiseman was Ben's by-name, de Monte Virun was his birth or surname. She hoped her mate wouldn't be too upset with the name she was about to give the boy.

"It's the name you _go by_, like Bart." She explained. "My by-name is . . . The Crimson Lady. Now, I believe I promised you an explanation . . . where to begin? Well I guess we'll start with why I don't look like a giant lizard.

"Once our kind did look that way, but it made hiding from dragon hunters very difficult and so . . . ."

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**Footnote:** The story of the Vientiane Arsenal lions is not my own. It belongs to Alberto Toso Fei and can be found at his wed site under the title: _The Invisible Beasts. _I tried to include the web address in this citation, like a responsible author, unfourtunitaly FF doesn't seem to allow this.

.Yes, I know that Sarah is in Florence . . . but how could I turn down a perfectly good Italian ghost story featuring, of all things . . . lions?


	23. Chapter 23

**Note to my readers:** don't get too peeved about Carlisle's behavior, everyone "loses it" once in a while.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight nor do I have rights to its characters.

Chapter 22

**Hypocrite!**

Carlisle and his family stopped at the head of the alley. They watched as a lone man staggered across the open expanse in front of the warehouse. It was easy for the doctor to hear the frightened pounding of the man's heart. His complexion was as pale as that of a vampire and a fine sheen of moisture clung to his skin. He muttered something about the vengeance of God and lion of St. Mark in Italian as he half stumbled and half ran.

Once the man was gone, Carlisle led his family safely across the moonlit plaza to the front of the warehouse. A quick check revealed the presence of only one heart beat. He presumed it belonged to the sick boy and he didn't like its rhythm.

"What's Sarah telling you?" he asked as he turned to look at Alice.

"She's worried about the boy," his elfish daughter answered.

"Is she still contemplating biting him?" He had to know what to expect.

"She's not sure what to do . . . she's scared and confused."

Indecision on Sarah's part was the best news he could hope for, it bought them precious time.

Katrina's lovely face flared in Carlisle's imagination, he could almost hear the sweet tinkling of her innocent laughter. Then the vision shifted and he saw her frighten as Caius held out the silver sphere and set her body alight. The vision shifted yet again and he saw her in agony and heard her screams as the flames consumed her.

Mentally he cursed himself for the hundredth time of the night. There were so many things he hadn't yet told Sarah, so many things he had yet to teach her. She was young and ever so innocent; his little girl teetered on the edge of mortal danger like an unsuspecting infant crawling near the edge of a high cliff. Pain, fear, and anger waged a fiery war inside his chest as he realized how his own oversight in Sarah's education might well cost her life.

"_Please God, not Sarah, too." _

Ages had passed since he had last sent up a plea to heaven, but in a distant corner of his mind he began, in earnest, to pray. If he managed to pull Sarah through her current misadventure unscathed, he vowed to himself to put his tender feeling for his daughter aside and give her the disciplined education she needed.

As they made their way up the front stairs, Carlisle could hear his daughter and the boy inside the warehouse. The boy's breathing was labored and he wheezed horribly. His breathing difficulty was putting an audible strain on his young heart. Without medical attention this poor child was going to die.

"What happened . . . to your scales?" he heard the boy wheeze.

"Well, we wouldn't blend in with the world around us very well if our bodies were covered in iridescent scales now would we?" He listened to her answer and found it very confusing. As Ben and Rose pried open the locked office door he heard her continue. "After the transmogrification changed us from our reptilian form into this one, our armor of scales became armor like skin."

"Do you miss . . . having scales?"

As a physician he didn't like the sound of the boy at all. Out of trained reflex his mind began a check list of things the patient would need; oxygen, a series of nebulizer treatments to ease the constriction of his airways and relieve his labored lungs, surgery to repair his shattered nose, antibiotics for infection, his mental list continued, but he pushed it to the rear of his mind. Some of these he was prepared to help with but most of the lad's treatment would have to be at the emergency room of the local hospital.

"Yes and no," he heard Sarah reply thoughtfully to the boy's question. Carlisle still couldn't figure out what manor of game his daughter was playing at . . . that was until she finished her answer. "Dragons, traditionally, have been the keepers of the Elixir of Life. The elixir is derived from a symbiotic fungus that grows on the underside of a dragon's scales. The fungus is the secret of our longevity. When we accepted the change and our scales merged to form skin, the fungus became locked within our skin for all time. So, sadly, there is no more elixir."

The allegory, he'd almost forgotten about it, but obviously Sarah hadn't. Why was she telling him that sadly contrived bit of fiction, Carlisle wondered as they made their way through the darkened office and into the hallway beyond? _Unless_ . . . a chill ran up his spine as his thoughts raced, what had she inadvertently let the youth see?

He would have to question the boy and, if he had seen too much . . . the doctor would have to do the unthinkable. Of course Esme and Sarah would most likely protest and he would probably have to send them away first. At least the boy wouldn't suffer, an overdose of morphine would stop his faltering heart, making him drift away peacefully in his sleep.

"_Disgusting beast," _his inner voice chided. For whatever reason, his inner voice always sounded like that of his father._ "Does a human life now mean so little to_ _you?_

His memory drifted back to a long forgotten Family Council when the prospect of killing another human child loomed before him. Edward had just, very conspicuously, saved Bella from being crushed to death by Tyler's van. Rose and Jasper were intent on eliminating her as a threat to the family. He had intervened then, on Bella's behalf, insisting that the murder of an innocent child was not justified even to protect the family. It simply wasn't the Cullen way.

"_It is now, I suppose," _his father's stern voice mocked him, "_so long as it's your needle doing the dirty work and not the hands or teeth of your children. Hypocrite!" _

Sarah's frightened cry roused him from his morbid thoughts. They were just exiting the stairs onto the main floor of the warehouse, His eyes instantly found his daughter. She sat on a filthy mattress holding the writhing body of a boy who looked to be no more than ten. The boy was in the violent throws of a grand mal seizure.

He was beside them now, kneeling on the edge of the mattress. "Talk to him Sarah, he can still hear you," he instructed her as he drew up the correct dose of medicine to stop the convulsions. "Reassure him, tell him it's alright."

He watched her nod. She fought back her fears and whispered to him as she stroked his forehead. "It's going to be ok Bart. This is my father, he's a doctor . . . the world's greatest doctor, and he's going help you."

The world's greatest doctor, Sarah's words struck him like a fiery lance, impaling him with the most exquisite agony. She placed in him and in his abilities as a physician, her unwavering trust. Moments earlier he was very confident in what he must do to protect his family; the boy was a potential threat after all. Now he felt his resolve melt away and, as he looked down at the child, he felt nothing but compassion.

You're too soft Cullen, he scolded himself as he tried to regain his resolve.

"_Hypocrite!" _the inner voice hissed again.

His eyes wandered from Sarah's expression of angelic innocence to the helpless ten year old boy she held in her arms _._He heard himself sigh as he administered the medication.

"Ben," he turned to his long time friend. "Would you please take Sarah and Esme back to the plaza in front of San Lorenzo? Wait for us there. If Alice, Rose, Bella, and I don't return within two hours take them back to Volterra."

Carlisle pitched Ben the keys to the van before helping ease Sarah out from under the boy. The medicine worked quickly and the child now lay peacefully.

"Papa, I want to stay," she protested as he helped her to her feet. He wasn't surprised, but if there was any chance that he might have to kill this boy he didn't want Sarah present.

His inner voice hissed but said nothing.

"Please don't argue honey, just go with Ben," he soothed. Right now she needed gentleness; there would be time to deal with her transgressions later. "It's for the best, I promise. Bart will be fine."

"Come milady," Ben wrapped his arm around Sarah and began leading her toward the stairs. "Carlisle will most likely have to call for an ambulance; you're too young to be mixed up with the authorities."

When his wife and young daughter were well away he turned his focus back to the boy. Bart's breathing was still labored and his face was an awful mess. The nose wasn't just broken, it was crushed. His face was badly swollen and bruised, dried blood caked his ivory skin. Carlisle sighed with indecision as he ran his hand through his hair.

"I don't know why you're agonizing about this," Alice said calmly.

Her tone was almost cold, couldn't she see that the thought of killing a child troubled him deeply. He was a doctor for crying out loud, he was sworn to save lives not take them.

Killing a human went against his every principal, it was abhorrent to him. He had spent centuries perfecting his control and in those centuries, not once, had he killed a human. He had lost patients, of course; a doctor wasn't truly a doctor in his opinion until he had lost his first patient. It was a rite of passage . . . a sad and regrettable rite of passage.

Yes, there had been the occasional slip or accident among his children and he dealt with this as compassionately as possible, it was an inherent danger of their nature. This was different however; this was willful cold-blooded murder.

"If you were really going to kill him, Carlisle," Alice went on, "You would have simply overdosed him on the barbiturate you used to stop his seizure. Now. . ." He watched her fish her phone from her pocket. "I'll call for the ambulance while you three concoct a cover story."

* * * *

It was nearly dawn by the time he, Bella, Rose, and Alice left the Meyer Children's Hospital of Florence. Bart was in stable condition in the hospital's ICU. He was in very good hands, Carlisle saw to that by making it a point of meeting all the boy's doctors. Over the years, he had developed a knack for telling genuine men and women of medicine from crack pots and charlatans. Besides, Meyer had a world renowned reputation for excellence.

He now walked with purpose toward his room. He had a little over three hours before he was scheduled to meet with Aro, Tobias, and the others for another session on the new constitution. That would be just enough time for him to deal with Sarah and run down to the old stables and grab one of the deer Aro was keeping in a paddock there for his guests.

During the long car ride back from Florence, he'd spent a lot of time thinking about what he might say to Sarah. He found he was torn between his tender paternal feelings and his knowledge that she needed firm-handed discipline. If she was to survive and become a multiple centenarian like himself and her mate, her impulsive and unpredictable nature had to be brought under control.

As he reached the door of his apartment, Katrina's face flashed in his mind once again. He would not make the same mistake Mikhail had; he would not lose his little girl to ignorance. Sarah would learn even if he broke both their hearts in the process. Someday she would understand and thank him for it.

He reached for the knob. From within he could hear the muffled voices of his wife and future son-in-law. He took a deep cleansing death as he set his mind on what he had to do.

When he opened the door he allowed his eyes to scan the room. Sarah sat on the sofa between Esme and Ben. He closed the door quickly and turned back to face them. Before any of them could begin badgering him with questions about the boy he laid into Sarah.

"Just what in bloody blazes were you thinking, young lady?" he growled at her and his tone dripped with an intensity of anger that surprised even him. "What possessed you, are you mad? You exposed yourself Sarah!

"Do you have any idea the compromising position your irrational and irresponsible behavior has put this family in . . . the position it's put me in?"

"But Papa . . ." She was about to plead her case. He didn't want to hear it.

"Don't _but Papa _me young lady!" Carlisle snarled back. The look of shocked horror on Sarah's face was very distracting and almost quelled his rage. "Do you think this is some sort of a game, Sarah?

"This life isn't a story book or comic and you're not a superhero. Let me remind you that, to the human population, we are abominations, the foul spawn of Satan himself, and the loathsome creatures of their worst hellish nightmares who feast upon their blood. We are not loved by mankind, Sarah, and the sooner you learn and accept this, the better."

Carlisle paused to watch his daughter's expression and gauge her reaction. It hurt him to see her like that, afraid and confused, but he knew it was necessary. With every fiber of his being he wanted to scoop her into his arms and smother her in his embrace as he whispered his apologies into her mahogany hair.

_It's for her own good, Carlisle,_ he assured himself. _Do you want to watch her burn like Katrina?_

A new wave of pain washed through him as his imagination superimposed the image of Katrina writhing in the flames over that of his beloved Sarah. Briefly his throat went tight.

"_Hypocrite!"_ His father's voice hissed. Even as Carlisle tried to ignore it, the voice grew in intensity. _"You claim to have love for the child. Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for a friend. She loves you more than her own life and you repay her loyalty and devotion with harsh words and recrimination."_

He shook off the sensation and plowed on. "Up until now, Sarah, I have dealt with you gently and leniently. I have been patient with you, but my patient nature does have its limits. You have reached mine!

"From now on I shall be handling you very differently. Since it is obvious that your siblings can't manage you, starting immediately you will not go anywhere without either your mother or myself at your side.

"If, in time, you show me some measure of maturity, I might consider lifting my edict . . . otherwise it shall remain in full force until your wedding day." Carlisle fixed Ben in his icy gaze. "Then you will be your husband's responsibility."

"Papa . . ." she whimpered.

Her tortured expression made him draw in a jagged breath. I love you honey, he thought to himself, I'm doing this because I love you.

"_Hypocrite!"_

"Hush Sarah!" he continued his reprimand. He would not hear her pleas; he knew they would undermine his firmness. "You have brought this punishment upon yourself . . . begin your march to maturity by accepting it with some measure dignity. Have I made myself clear?!"

"Yes, Papa." She dropped the gaze of her blind eyes and her voice was very contrite, both were good signs.

Deep down Carlisle loathed having to scold Sarah so harshly. Punishing her like this hurt him even worse than Jane's torture. Hopefully he could turn her irresponsible behavior around quickly and they could go back to the warm relationship they previously shared.

"Very good, you are dismissed." He allowed his voice to be a bit softer now, an auditory queue to her that the scolding was over. "Go back to your suite now, but don't come out until I send for you."

Carlisle watched as Ben helped Sarah up and led her toward the door. She was trembling with fear and that sight caused his stomach to turn itself into sickened knots. He longed to embrace her and shush her fears away, but he stood firm. She needs this, he reminded himself. You love her and you want her to live. He turned away, unable to watch his frightened daughter any longer.

"Come little love," he heard Ben coo. "I'll help you back to your room."

He listened to them leave, then walked to the window and stared absently at the morning sky. The temperature of the room suddenly dropped several degrees as the door closed behind Ben and Sarah. His mate was not pleased with him. He couldn't bring himself to meet the hurt in her honey-gold eyes.

"Carlisle Cullen!" Esme barked. Rarely had he ever heard anger like this in her sweet voice. "Don't you think you were just a little too hard on her? You weren't that severe with Jasper the last time he had a slip, or with Edward when he abandoned Bella and it nearly killed the poor girl. What's gotten into you?"

"I don't wish to discuss it Esme," he snapped before turning and striding to the door. He caught a glimpse of himself in the small wall mirror; his eyes were black with thirst. A trip to the stables for a quick meal was definitely in order. With that thought in mind, he left.

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**Footnote:** The Meyer Children Hospital of Florence was founded in 1884 by the Marquis Giovanni Meyer in memory of his wife Anna. At its founding it was one of the first hospitals in Italy devoted exclusively to children's health care issues. Today it is still one of the few pediatric hospitals in Italy and is recognized by both the World Health Organization and Italy's National Health System for its dedication and excellence.

Ha Ha!! You thought I made the place up didn't you, maybe even named it in honor of SM. Oh no, I did a wed search for hospitals in Florence!!!

Don't you just love Google!


	24. Chapter 24

**Happy Easter!!!**

**I'm posting two chapters for you guys, but the second one is a little short(sorry). anyway, enjoy!!**

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**Note:** I do not own Twilight!!

Chapter 23

**If My Sister's in Trouble**

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**(Chorus)**

_**If my sister's in trouble  
I will always help her out  
If my sister's in trouble  
I will turn the world around  
I will fight for her right  
No matter where the problem seems to lie  
If my sister's in trouble so am I  
If my sister's in trouble so am I  
So am I**_

_**Lady Soul**_

_**If My Sister's in Trouble **_

_**Sound track for Sister Act**_

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Sarah sat amid luxurious cushions on the wide window bench. The warm late afternoon sun filtered in through the lattice of the Moroccan screen that covered the window. She allowed her sensitive fingers to trace the screen's intricately carved surface, admiring the workmanship. She was alone, her sisters and mother had gone down to the stable to feed.

Her father had come to their suite earlier to escort her down to the stable. His visit left her a little confused. She was sure he would still be fuming, but gone was the angry father that had scolded her so savagely. Papa was his usual self; the bells in his voice were filled with warmth and exuding love when he spoke to her. It was as if nothing had ever happened. She wasn't sure what to make of the nonchalant way he passed over their earlier encounter and it made her feel hurt.

Though she had no appetite, she went along without argument. A part of her feared that any hesitance on her part might cause her father's anger to flair.

The prospect of feeding brought back the memories of having Alberto pinned under her powerful paws. The reality of how close she'd come to killing a man . . . how close she'd come to being like Cane . . . made her shudder.

In the end, even though her father wrestled a strong choice animal from the paddock for her, she was unable to feed. Every time she lowered her mouth to the deer's warm pulsing jugular, she could taste Alberto's skin on her tongue and his scent filled her nose. She pulled away after each attempt in disgust, the very thought of feeding turned her stomach. After trying several times, she eventually gave up. She could sense her father was disappointed, but his voice reflected only his concern.

Angry Papa resurfaced for just a flash as they walked back from the stables. She made the mistake of asking about Bart.

"Can we go visit him in the hospital, Papa?" she asked innocently. She wasn't expecting his near explosive answer.

"Most certainly not!" her father growled. "The boy is fine, be satisfied with that knowledge. The sooner you forget about him, the better."

But she couldn't forget about him, her mind constantly turned to Bart. In spite of her father's orders to the contrary, Ben and Alice told her everything. He was in stable but guarded condition at Meyer Hospital. The men who kidnapped Bart had murdered his parents in the process. He had no known next of kin in the US but the American Embassy was going to arrange his passage home when he was well enough. He would then enter the foster care system and be put up for adoption if no suitable relations could be found. The only bright spot in the boy's whole sad story was that her father was footing the bill for all Bart's medical expenses.

The poor boy was an orphan now, just like her, and that thought continually rattled through the vastness of her cavernous mind.

"_Are you . . . an Angel?" _The sound of Bart's voice as he asked that question filled her mind and hummed in her soul. Then the contradictory voice of her angry father would answer back reminding her that, to humans, they were _"the loathsome creatures of their worst hellish nightmares."_

Which was she Angel or Demon, she wondered, good or evil? Her mind wrestled with the question until a much warmer version of her father's voice played once more through her head. _"A dragon, of any kind, is neither good nor bad. You see, inside the heart of every Golden Dragon beats the heart of a Red. A dragon chooses whether to be to be Golden or not."_

The words of her father's allegory made more sense now than ever and they held the answer she was struggling for. A smile curled her mouth. Her next thought was interrupted by the return of her mother and sisters from the stable. They entered the room in a jubilant mood, with Siobhan and Maggie in tow.

"I told you she would be brooding," Alice piped up. She sounded just a little smug to Sarah, but instantly her elfish sister was at her elbow. "Come on, shake off that blue funk you're in and join our happy hen party. Siobhan has some ideas about places to have your fairy tale wedding."

She allowed Alice to haul her from the window bench and escort her to the sofa. Her sister settled her next to Esme, and her mother instantly responded by wrapping an affectionate arm around her. With the exception of her father and Rose, no one else in the family seemed upset with her escapade to save Bart. Like Papa, Rose felt that Sarah's actions were stupid and risky.

"You have the ability to project your thoughts, Sarah," Rose grumbled when Ben brought Sarah back to the room after her father's tongue lashing. "You could have told us what was going on . . . you could have let us in on it. Instead you made it your own private crusade. We would have helped you Sarah, we're family . . . that's what families do, they help one another."

Though she knew her sister was hurt and angry, in that moment Rose's words held more compassion and understanding than Papa's tirade.

"So," Siobhan interrupted her thoughts. "Alice tells me you want a castle wedding. That sounds very romantic, and very appropriate considering who you're getting hitched too."

Sarah could hear the school girl giggle in the happy tinkling of the harps. Siobhan was as excited as everyone else.

"He's a Knight, nothing else seems right," Sarah admitted. Then she paused as a thought occurred to her. "You don't think he'll be upset do you. Maybe I should ask him before we get too deep in this; he might want something more traditional."

"Kitten, this is your day." Esme soothed. "The wedding is all about the bride and what she wants. I know Benjamin very well, if this is your heart's desire, he would never begrudge you."

"It's what I want Mama . . . more than anything."

"Well then," the flute played happily, "It's what you shall have."

"Ireland has more castles that a dog has fleas," Siobhan joked. "I could name a dozen or more that I think would be grand for a wedding . . . but only one comes to mind as absolute perfection. Kilkenny castle, nestled on the banks of the River Nore, in county Kilkenny." She heard the harps sigh softly. "It's very old, part of the original structure dates back to the late 1100s. It's the most beautiful castle I have ever seen, the grounds and the gardens are breath taking. I can't imagine a place anywhere in the world better suited for your grand and glorious day."

"It sounds perfect Siobhan," Sarah agreed. She could feel the broadness of her smile.

"It is perfect," Alice sighed. "Jazz and I visited there once; I don't know why I didn't think of it myself. In fact, if memory serves me, the grounds behind the castle are exactly suited for the unusual wedding reception I have planned."

"Unusual reception?" There was more than a note of question in her mother's voice.

"Well, Sarah envisions this as a costumed affair and in keeping with the medieval theme. . ." Alice's words trailed off into a pause.

"Alice, what's wrong?" The flutes shifted from questioning to concern.

"Carlisle's coming," her sister answered, "To take Sarah back down to the stables for another try at feeding."

Sarah felt her body shiver. The thought of feeding initially made her throat burn with need and anticipation, but that quickly faded as the taste of Alberto's skin filled her mouth. Suddenly she felt very sick and her face must have shown it.

"Kitten, what's wrong?" Her mother hugged her tight against her side.

Before she could answer, there was a light knock at the door and her father stepped into the room. Sarah's shiver escalated to a tremble and the taste of Alberto in her mouth intensified.

"Ah, what a lucky man am I," the bells smiled. "To find the seven most beautiful women in all the world gathered together in one room. Even luckier still am I that five of them belong to my family."

Siobhan and Maggie laughed, and then the harp spoke. "Is he always so flattering Esme? I think he could teach my Liam a thing or two."

"No," Sarah heard her mother answer flatly. "Right now he's in the dog house with me and he's trying to wriggle his way out of it. If we were a human couple he would be looking forward to a long lonely night on the sofa."

"Is this true?" the harps asked, sounding just a little surprised.

"Alas, my dear Siobhan, it is true," her father said with a deep tired sigh. "My moon, my rings of Saturn, my celestial goddess, my Venus . . . is most vexed with me. I must search for a way to quench her fury and woo her once more." Her father paused and the addressed her in the most pleasant tone ever. "Come my darling Sarah, I thought we might make another attempt at feeding."

Instinctively, Sarah retreated into her mother's side, the taste of Alberto more intense in her mouth than ever.

"Carlisle?" her sister Alice came to her rescue. "Might I have a word with you . . . privately . . . it's very important."

After a long pause her father answered, "Certainly." His voice was one of worry.

* * * *

Carlisle followed Alice through the maze of corridors until they exited into the moonlit palace gardens. He had no idea what his daughter wanted to speak with him about, but her expression was one of urgency. Perhaps she'd had another vision, he thought, and he could only hope whatever catastrophe she saw could be avoided.

Half way across the garden Alice turned abruptly to face him. Her suddenness startled him, her expression frightened him.

"Alice, what's wrong?"

"Carlisle, what would you say if I . . . ." He watched her pause to gather her thoughts before continuing. "That is, how would you feel, if I told you . . . I nearly lost control yesterday and almost killed a man?"

In a single movement he closed the space between them and wrapped Alice in a fierce hug. To his knowledge Alice had never had a slip, coming so close must have been awful for her . . . awful and terrifying.

"It's alright Alice," he soothed as he held her. It always amazed him how

tiny she was in his arms. "The important thing, sweetheart, is that you managed to stop yourself. We'll work through this, together. We'll figure out what caused this and . . . ."

Alice shoved him back with more force than he though her capable of and exploded from his embrace like a cannon ball. This left him very confused, he was sure he hadn't said the wrong thing. Then again, he thought, with everything that had happened lately how could he really be sure. Even his mate was angry with him.

"Alice, what did I do?" he asked softly.

"It's not what you did, Carlisle, it's what you _didn't _do," she snapped back.

"I'm afraid you have me at a loss." His confusion grew deeper; Alice had never acted this way before.

Several minutes passed and Carlisle watched the play of emotions on Alice's pixie-like face. Finally she spoke again.

"When are you going to stop being afraid of Sarah and start treating her like the daughter you _claim_ to love?" Alice demanded of him. "When are you going to stop using the memory of Katrina as your own personal cat-o'-nine-tails to mentally flog yourself with? Carlisle, she's not Katrina and it isn't fair of you to treat her this way."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Alice," the doctor responded. "Is that what your request was all about, to get me out here under false pretenses so you could unload on me? I would have thought you were above such things."

"If my sister's in trouble and needs my help, I'm not above using any tactic."

"I see," Carlisle straightened before turning to leave the garden the same way he came. "Well, if you're finished, Sarah needs to feed."

"Sarah isn't going to feed." In a flash Alice was in front of him, blocking his path to the door. "In fact I don't see Sarah feeding again for a very, _very_ long time."

"Sarah is thirsty. While her eyes might not turn black with need the way ours do, I can still read that need in her quite easily. She's just being stubborn." He moved several paces toward Alice. "Now please get out of my way."

"No," she positioned herself more firmly between him and the door, "Not until you listen."

Carlisle stood still in his tracks. With a sigh and a small gesture of his hand he signaled his readiness to hear what Alice had to say.

"Sarah held the channel between us open last night, I saw everything that she saw and felt everything she felt," Alice began; admiration mixed with sadness colored her voice. "I wish you could have seen it Carlisle . . . her control was exceptional. She managed to maintain the balance between her rage and her desire to save Bart like she'd been living this life for centuries rather than a few months. She literally put the fear of God into those pathetic heaps of human rubbish, it was brilliant.

"Then things went terribly wrong. She let herself get distracted by her internal dialogue and allowed too much of the beast within to surface. She couldn't stop herself from leaping at Alberto. Her blood lust overwhelmed her. . .I saw the images her imagination conjured . . . her teeth ripping his throat open, her lapping up every last drop of him.

"I tasted Alberto as Sarah's tongue wash over the skin of his throat, I felt the tingle of anticipation race through her body as she teased him with her teeth in preparation to bite.

"She was so very close to the edge Carlisle, you have no idea. She nearly killed a man . . . she nearly became the one thing she loathes most . . . she nearly became Cane, and it's tearing her up inside.

"Now every time she thinks about feeding, every time she lowers her head and prepares to take her meal, her mouth fills with the taste of Alberto. Her thirst burns more painfully than I _personally_ have ever known, and yet she resists it, because she's racked with guilt to the point of nausea. The thought of feeding sickens her, and I don't see it ending."

Alice paused for a moment and softened her tone. "She needs you Carlisle, but not the angry reproachful father who's eaten up with guilt and afraid to lose his daughter to the flames. She needs her kind, gentle, understanding, _Papa_ with his warm encouragement, soothing words, and fierce bear hugs."

Carlisle suddenly found it hard to breathe as his chest and throat went tight. Dear God, what have I done, he asked in the back of his mind? His thoughts scattered themselves in every direction as he tried to process Alice's account of what happened.

"I didn't know, she . . . she didn't tell me," was all he could manage to say.

"And you're somehow surprised by this fact, after that heavy-handed performance you gave last night?" Alice glared at him.

He'd only seen that look on her face once before, the day she warned him of the grave mistake they were making by leaving Forks . . . and abandoning Bella. He vowed later that he would never ignore Alice or that look again.

"What do I do Alice, how do I fix this?" He ran his fingers through his fair hair. "What do you see?"

"I don't know what to tell you beyond . . . be honest with her, follow your true instincts . . . give her your purest love. It's what she needs . . . she craves it more than blood."

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**Footnote:** The title of this chapter, _If My Sister's in Trouble_, comes from the title of a song by Lady Soul. It's very 90s, from the movie _Sister Act_. You can find it on You Tube if you're interested.

**Footnote #2:** Thanks again to TheSneakyHobo for her help in finding the perfect location for Sarah and Ben's special day.


	25. Chapter 25

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 24

**Lean On Me**

**_______________________________________________________________**

_**That which has never been broken can never be mended, that which has never been lost can never be found, and that which has never been forfeit can never be redeemed.**_

_**Unknown**_

__________________________________________________________________

Carlisle paced the garden, lost in his deep pondering. Alice left him to gather his thoughts before facing Sarah and the rest of his family. Before doing so, she gave him two more kernels of information to add to the heavy dose of reality he was ruminating on. It involved two snippets of visions that had surfaced over the past twenty four hours. Both involved Sarah and Bart.

The first vision she described to him was a still, sepia-toned image, like an old tin-type photograph. Sarah and Ben stood together in their Sunday best with Bart, smartly dressed, in front of them. Each of them had a hand resting on one of the boy's shoulders.

"It's a family portrait, Carlisle," Alice explained. "Bart is destined to join this family as Sarah and Ben's child."

That wasn't entirely surprising; Bartholomew was an orphan now and Sarah had a soft spot in her heart for him. The second vision was more shocking and a little confusing.

"I still see her biting the boy," Alice told him.

A deep pain settled into his chest at her words. "She can't Alice, the boy is only ten. Creating an immortal child . . . they'll both be killed."

"I said my vision shows her biting Bart . . . I don't see him becoming one of us." Even his gifted daughter looked confused by this.

"But he's to join the family?" perhaps the one vision was determinate on the other.

"Yes, Carlisle, he's going to join the family . . . as a human."

Those words still rattled through his mind as he sighed and turned to leave the peaceful garden. He couldn't put things off any longer.

He knocked lightly at the door to his daughters' apartment. When he opened the door, he found Siobhan and Maggie were gone. Sarah sat on the sofa between Esme and Alice. Rose and Bella had taken up flanking positions on either sofa arm. Four pairs of honey-gold eyes were focused on him as he moved, at human speed, across the room. Even Sarah's sightless hazel eyes seemed to drill into him as he approached. He now knew what the deer felt like when he watched them with his predatory gaze.

Slowly, he knelt before Sarah. He allowed himself to look first to his mate. Her face showed her worry but her anger was gone. Carlisle wondered if Alice had spoken to her. His gaze then shifted to Alice, she flashed him her usually pixie smile and nodded her encouragement.

"Sarah," he breathed her name softly and watched her reaction. He noticed that she was trembling when he knelt in front of her; the sound of him whispering her name intensified her shaking. He turned again to Alice, questioning clearly written in his features. She smiled and nodded again.

"Sarah, honey." He reached out to take her hand in his, but instantly pulled back. At his touch, Sarah flinched. Carlisle took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he reached out again and gently took Sarah's hand. "Shhh, it's alright sweetheart, I know, it's . . ."

"I'm sorry, Papa," she squeaked. "I'm so sorry, please don't be angry."

"No, no, honey, shush, it's ok . . . it's ok." He reached up with his other hand and cupped her cheek, ignoring her slight reaction at this. "_I'm_ the one who should be apologizing to _you_, not the other way around." He paused and then added, "Papa has been acting like a real nincompoop and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did, Sarah. I've never raised my voice in anger to my children like that before; it was uncalled for . . . it was wrong of me." Carlisle sighed, he had absolutely no right to ask this of her, he deserved his guilt, but he needed her absolution. "Do you think you could see your way clear to forgive your foolish old Papa for his foolishness?"

Her reaction was instant; she launched herself at Carlisle wrapping him in an exuberant hug. He caught her in his arms and returned her embrace with equal fierceness. Though she was incapable of tears he felt her begin to sob in his arms and, to his amazement, he found himself doing the same. Ages had passed since he'd last allowed himself this level of emotional release, but in that moment it was inescapable.

By virtue of his age and experience, Carlisle regained his composure first. He continued to hold Sarah as he whispered gentle encouragement into the top of her head.

"Papa," he heard her croak when she was a little calmer, "Papa don't be angry . . . I almost . . . I nearly . . . killed that man."

She was sobbing again by the time she finished.

"Shhh," he pulled her in even tighter, "It's alright honey, I know. Alice told me. We'll get you through this, it's ok."

"But . . . I nearly killed him," she protested and then paused to try and catch her breath. "I . . . I wanted to . . . drink all of him. It was awful."

"You lost control, Sarah," he whispered, minding his tone to keep it calm and understanding. "It happens sometimes, especially to young ones like you. Don't misunderstand me; I'm very impressed with you. Your control is extraordinary considering you're only a few months old. You made both a trans-continental and a trans-Atlantic flight on airplanes packed with humans, most of us couldn't do that at your age . . . not without leaving a body count anyway."

"But I came so close." He noted the anxiety in her voice that the thought of her near slip caused.

"Yes, but the most important thing is that . . . you _didn't _kill him."

"But what if I had . . . would you hate me?"

He tipped her chin up so that he could gaze into her eyes. Even though she couldn't see, those soft brown pools held a reflection of her emotions. Often he had wondered in the past three centuries, if their kind still possessed souls. Looking into Sarah's eyes made him certain that she, at least, did. It was laid bare in those hazel depths, for anyone in the world with as much as an ounce of discernment to see.

"Sarah, there is _absolutely_ _nothing_ you could do that would ever make me hate you." He bent forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Lean on me, honey, and I'll always be there to support you . . . call on me and I'll always come to your aid . . . trust in me, I'll never knowingly hurt you or lead you falsely. You don't have to bear your burdens alone Sarah, you have a family to help you . . . you have your _Papa_ to help you. Let us carry what you can't handle on your own."

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**Chapter Notes:**

I know this chapter was a little short, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything more beyond Carlisle's words of wisdom. Next chapter will be longer.

Yes, the title of this chapter came from the song, _Lean on Me_. I have two versions on my playlist, one by The Temptations (old school) and one by Rockapella. I like them both very much.

Before any of you ask, _**no**_, Sarah doesn't know about Alice's visions concerning Bart. At this point, only Alice and Carlisle know and it's their little secret. Alice did speak to Esme about Carlisle's apology . . . maybe he won't have to spend the night on the sofa after all. Ha ha ha.

**PS:** If any of my dear readers knows where that quote at the beginning of this chapter came from, please let me know. I have bits and pieces of all kinds of stuff just floating around inside my head. In any case, I'm quite sure I'm not clever enough to come up with something like that on my own.


	26. Chapter 26

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!!

Chapter 25

**Cogito ergo sum**

_(I think, therefore I am.)_

Sarah walked between her parents as they made their way to the stable. Three days had passed since she nearly killed Alberto and in that time, in spite of repeated attempts and constant encouragement by her parents, Sarah had been unable to feed. Even now as they walked, she could taste the skin of that filthy thug in her mouth and her stomach threatened to turn itself inside out.

If she had no success today, which she suspected would be the case, more than a week and a half would have elapsed since she fed last. According to her father this wasn't good. Already her sisters told her that her hair was losing its healthy luster, her skin, though customarily pale, was now pasty and mottled and her eyes were hollow looking.

"You're starting to _look _dead," Rose told her bluntly. The comment wasn't intended to be mean spirited, just honest.

Worse yet, early that morning the aroma of cooking food from the surrounding village wafted in through the apartment window. An insane craving for shrimp fettuccine alfredo struck her like a speeding freight train. It was all she could do to stop from jumping out the window and finding what she wanted.

"Do we have to do this Papa?" She didn't really want to go through the humiliation of being unable to take a meal yet again. It made no sense.

She felt her father gently squeeze her hand before he answered. "You need to try honey; I know it's frustrating, but if you don't make the effort you'll never get better."

But she didn't want to make the effort; she wanted to go back to her room. What was the point?

"What happens if I don't feed, will I die?" The question had occurred to her several times over the past few days, but this was the first time she rustled up the courage to ask it.

"No." Her father moved to put his reassuring arm around her shoulders. "We can't die of starvation . . . we can't really _die_ at all because . . . well, technically, we're already dead. You can't die twice, thankfully.

"What _will_ happen though isn't much better. You'll grow weaker and weaker until you won't be able to move around on your own any more, let alone hunt for yourself. You'll become an invalid and you won't regain your strength until you begin feeding again."

"Are you sure we're dead Papa?" She had never thought of herself as being dead before, after all she could walk, talk, and run and do all sorts of other things.

"Honey, you have no heart beat, you don't need to breath, and if I were to perform an EEG on you . . . you would show no brain activity." He was using his doctor's voice now. "That makes you clinically dead. I'm sorry if you find that shocking."

"I challenge that." Sarah's mind drifted back to Biology 101. If she concentrated hard enough she could still hear her professor's warm voice and thick Calcutta accent as he lectured. "According to Dr. Sharma there are five qualities that define a thing as being alive: It must have structural organization, it must eat or produce its own food, it must be able to grow and/or move, it must be able to reproduce, and it must be able to adapt to its environment. I can do all those things."

She heard her father chuckle as he gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm glad to see that you retained some of your collage biology post transformation, however, I'm afraid an organism must meet all five criteria for life. At best we can only meet three."

Mentally, she ran back through her list trying to ferret out which two she was incapable of. When she couldn't puzzle it out she let her thoughts flow verbally. She chose to start her debate with the most obvious points first.

"Ok, Papa, we definitely eat, though our diet is a little . . . unorthodox."

"That's true," a smile rang in the bells. She could tell he was enjoying this.

"I'm fairly sure we possess structural organization. Obviously, all our appendages are where they are supposed to be and we must be made up of _something_. . .cells, atoms, and the like, and we do have DNA because you've told me as much."

"A sound observation, a safe assumption, and a true fact." The smile in her father's voice was growing.

"We do adapt to our environment, we learn and then apply that knowledge to survive. By keeping up appearances and trying to act human, we're using a sort of camouflage to protect ourselves. By moving around a lot we hide our identity, but we also minimize the impact we have on our environment by preventing over hunting, so I guess you could say we migrate. We avoid things that would draw attention to us, like standing in the sun. Even our very special diet is an adaption."

"Interesting." She could tell her father was thinking out loud. "That's not the point I expected you would move on to next, but I do find the argument valid."

"I suppose you expected I would take up the issue of movement." Her father chuckled but he didn't interrupt, so she continued. "Well, we do move, Papa. Run, jump, climb, we can move in some of the most incredible ways imaginable."

"I'm afraid I can't argue with that," he sighed, "But we don't grow, that's a critical flaw."

"Why? Trees can _grow _but they can't _move_ . . . unless it happens to be an Ent dwelling in the Forest of Fangorn."

"Bless me, you're a Tolkien fan," her Papa laughed. "I rather like his work myself you know. Don't mention it to Edward though, the poor boy can't stand Tolkien . . . no imagination. The movies were masterful, by the way, did you happen to go?"

"Papa, I'm serious," Sarah insisted. "If trees and other plants can meet that requirement by simply growing but not moving . . . then why can't we meet it by simply moving but not growing?"

"A very good question," he answered her thoughtfully, "To which, I'm sorry to say, I have no good answer. Unfortunately, it makes little difference one way or the other because the only requirement remaining is reproduction . . . which we are most definitely incapable of."

"I'm not so sure about that, Papa."

"Sarah, my darling little girl, you're extremely intelligent . . . you have nothing to prove to me. Trust me." He pulled her close and kissed her head. "We can't reproduce, we're sterile. No female of our species has ever conceived or given birth."

"Bella had a child by Edward," she offered.

"While she was still _human_," he reminded her.

"Was Edward still human at the time?" She knew the answer already. She also knew exactly where she was going with this, she had two points and this was one of them.

There was a pause, then she heard him clear his throat. "No, he wasn't. But that doesn't matter because Nessie isn't fully a vampire."

"But obviously, my brother isn't fully sterile either."

"Point taken," her father answered dryly. She decided to move on to her other point on the subject.

"Reproduction," she began, trying once more to remember her biology lecture notes, "Is the natural process among organisms by which new individuals are generated, the species is perpetuated and genetic material is passed from parent to offspring. We can do all that."

"Really." She could tell Papa was happily skeptical.

"Of course," she began. "The transformation process is our form of reproduction."

He was laughing again, amused by her innocent answer.

"Do you deny it meets the definition, Papa . . . new individuals _are_ generated, the species _is_ perpetuated and genetic material _is_ passed from creator to newborn." When he didn't answer her, she added. "We're not dead at all, Papa, we are very much alive . . . but we've been changed into a new sort of being. You wouldn't say that the caterpillar died because it turned into a butterfly . . . would you?"

"A very well presented and defended thesis Sarah, it looks as if I might have to rethink my research." Warmth and admiration tolled in the cathedral bells. Then he seemed to shift gears when he spoke next. "Tell me honey, how do you feel?"

His question puzzled her. She made a quick mental assessment before answering. "I feel fine, Papa, why?"

He was chuckling again as he gave her shoulder another squeeze. "Because, my dear, we just entered the stable. Usually, by now, you're trembling so hard you can barely stand let alone walk and you're a pasty shade of green."

The smell of the deer hit her then and her mouth filled once more with the taste of Alberto. Her stomach rolled in protest. She wanted to unwind herself from her Papa's arm and run back to her room.

"Just as I thought." It was Papa's doctor voice again, but it still held notes of paternal warmth. "A psychosomatic reaction . . . fascinating."

"What does it mean, Carlisle?" her mother asked with concern.

"Well, a psychosomatic reaction is one in which. . ."

"I don't need you to define the term," Esme interrupted. "I've read enough of your stodgy old medical journals to know that much. My question is what are you going to _do_ about it?"

"Quite frankly, my love . . . I'm going to cheat," her father answered.

* * * *

Carlisle stopped several yards from the paddock, turned, and took Sarah gently by the shoulders. She was trembling now and her complexion was pasty and green. She had been fine the entire time she was distracted with proving her intriguing theory, but the moment she was no longer distracted . . . her usual reaction set in with force. It had been this way every time he brought her down to feed since the encounter with Alberto.

To say he was worried about his little girl was an understatement.

His distress had led to an idea which came to him courtesy of Jasper. As he contemplated possible ways to get Sarah to feed, his mind wandered back to the birthday party his family thew for Bella. The party had gone terribly wrong when Bella cut herself on some wrapping paper. The minuscule amount of blood that leaked from the tiny cut was enough to set off Jasper. This happened in spite of the fact that he wasn't thirsty, as he had spent the whole week gorging himself on deer and bear in preparation for being around the accident prone human girl.

"Sarah," he soothed, "I want you to stay here with your mother while I go select something nice for you."

He watched her nod, but he couldn't ignore the doubt that loomed in her hazel eyes. She was expecting failure again, but he knew otherwise. When the notion came to him he quietly consulted Alice, to see what her vision could tell him. He didn't want to put Sarah through this, if it was doomed from the start.

"An interesting solution, Carlisle," Alice chirped in her usual way. "I see it working . . . but Sarah's not going to like it. That sort of thing goes against her strong sense of fair play."

Carlisle sighed as he entered the paddock. He could deal with Sarah's disapproval; he would make his case to her . . . after she feed.

His calculating predatory senses quickly singled out a strong young buck from the milling heard. Because these deer were domesticated, they were used to "humans" and didn't react with fear when he approached. Unfortunately, they didn't taste as good as their wild counterparts, but they were just as nutritious. Carlisle took hold of one of the buck's antlers and led him quietly from the paddock.

He brought the animal back to where Esme and Sarah waited, stopping a short distance from them. When his plan worked, he wanted his daughter to have room enough to pounce. He was anticipating a more violent predatory reaction than usual because of her deprived state.

"Take a nice deep breath honey," he instructed her. "What do you think?"

"Carlisle, aren't you going to snap its neck first before you offer it to her?" Esme asked. "Maybe that's why she's not been feeding."

He couldn't miss the shock and disgust on her beautiful face. His mate had only limited experience with their daughter's hunting methods. She'd never actually seen Sarah make a kill before.

"No, my love," he answered her, trying not to sound too academic. "Because of her underlying feline nature, she prefers her prey live." Then he turned his attention back to Sarah. "Come on Kitten, aren't you just the slightest bit interested?"

She shook her head as she retreated into the comfort of her mother's side. "I'm not thirsty, Papa. Put the poor creature back in the pen."

"Patience, Sarah," he cooed. "Now, I want you to relax . . . let your mind drift back to the last time you and I went hunting in the woods beyond the house. Do you remember?"

"Yes, Papa."

He watched her eyes glaze over and he knew she was reliving their last hunt together. While her mind was busy, he drew the animal close to him and swung one leg over its narrow back. When he had it pinned securely between his knees, he reached into his pocket.

"I still don't feel thirsty, Papa," she muttered. He couldn't help his smile.

"That's alright; I wasn't expecting it to make you thirsty." But he had hoped it might. "Keep concentrating on the memory of our last hunt together. What did you feel? Let those feelings fill you . . . until nothing else seems to matter."

There were four items Carlisle never left the house without; his wallet, his cell phone, matches, and his pocket knife. The knife was given to him by one of the first patients he treated when he arrived in the new world. The man was a knife maker by trade and it was payment for services rendered after he fixed the man's broken arm. It was that blade he now fished from his pocket.

With practiced skill he opened the folded blade one-handed as he braced the deer's neck against his thigh. He heard Esme gasp and he shot her a pleading look to silence her. He watched his mate as her hand went to her mouth, but thankfully Sarah didn't seem to notice. The look on his daughter's face told him she was doing as he asked, focusing on the memories of her last hunt with him.

He placed the sharp tip of the knife blade against the pulsing vessel in the deer's neck and, with a quick flick of his wrist, made a small neat incision. Blood oozed from the surgically precise wound, slowly saturating the animal's coarse brown fur.

The warm earthy/coppery smell of fresh deer blood filled the stable. Carlisle moaned softly in spite of having fed earlier. Quickly he shook off the temptation and turned his attention back to Sarah. Instantly, he found himself mentally cursing, she was holding her breath.

"Relax and breath sweetheart, it's ok," he soothed. "Just breath . . . let yourself go, and let it happen."

She shook her head vehemently but wouldn't take a breath.

"I know, Sarah," he continued calmly. "You lost control and it frightened you . . . terribly. Believe me honey, I completely understand, but you need this . . . your thirst is unbearably painful, Alice told me so. You need to relieve your need."

She shook her head again and he noticed she was trembling so hard that Esme had to hold her upright. For a moment he considered the possibility that he might be taking the wrong approach, but Alice assured him it would work. He _knew_ it would work, if only she would relax and breathe.

"Lean on me, sweetheart," he whispered. "Trust in me . . . I won't let anything bad happen . . . I won't let you be like Cane."

"_I almost killed Alberto, Papa," _she projected into his head. Her mind voice was insistent but soft. _"I never want to come that close again . . . take me back to my room, Papa . . . please!"_

Carlisle felt his throat going tight; he swallowed hard to clear the lump. "Baby, your mother and I love you very much, we want only the very best for you . . . you know that, don't you?"

He watched her nod.

"We're very worried about you, it's not right that a young one like you should punish yourself so. It breaks our hearts to see you suffer; it hurts us to know that you're in pain. We know thirst Sarah, we understand how it burns . . . and at your age, it must be even worse." He sighed, before continuing his gentle persuasion. "Do you know how devastating it would be, for all of us, to have to watch you, day after day, as you grow weaker and weaker until finally you're reduced to a mere husk of the Sarah we all love so dearly?"

"_I don't mean to hurt you, Papa . . . or Mama."_

"I know, honey, I know," he soothed. "You're just frightened . . . it's fear that makes you taste Alberto's loathsome filth on your tongue at the very thought of feeding. However, as impossible as it may seem to you right now, you can move beyond your fear. You must move beyond it.

"You have control Sarah . . . extraordinary control, but this self-destructive path you've put yourself on isn't the way to use it. I would teach you, Sarah, let me. I would help you explore all the wondrous things that you're capable of, but I can't do that if you're not strong and healthy.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do this . . . I know you can. Just relax and let go . . . let it all go."

He watched her close her eyes and take a shallow, tentative breath. She moaned and then stopped breathing again.

"Come on, let go, honey. It's ok, you're safe," he assured her. "Let your instincts take over."

Carlisle watched her take another shallow breath and heard her moan again, but this time she kept breathing. Each breath became deeper and more rapid as he watched her body shiver with pent up need. It wouldn't be much longer now, she was on the edge. He gave a silent nod to Esme who gently released her grip on Sarah's elbow and stepped back. Just moments before she lunged, he released the deer from the hold of his knees.

As he had expected, her reaction was violent. She exploded at the helpless buck, growling at her father as she tore the animal from his hand and knocked it to the ground. Her mouth showed no mercy as it found the soft flesh and pulsing vessel. She was ravenous and Carlisle knew one buck wouldn't be enough. While she continued to feed he made his way back to the paddock. By the time the first animal was drained, he had another one waiting for her.

This one she took from him with less force, but he judged a third one would be required before she was sated. By the time she finished the second deer he had a third one ready. She was feeding slowly now, more deliberately. Already the luster was returning to her hair and her skin looked healthier. It would take more than three deer to undo the damage, but it was a good start.

As she stood to her feet after draining the third animal, he moved to stand beside her.

"Sarah," he called softly. Her only response was to collapse into his arms sobbing.


	27. Chapter 27

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!!!

Chapter 26

**Stand By Me**

Sarah sat in her favorite spot by the window. She had her sensitive ears focused on the surrounding village, more specifically on the open air market. Her sisters had gone shopping and she was following their movements thought the village with her ears. Though she could find and zero in on any of her family's mental signatures without much effort, Bella's mind was the most difficult station for her to tune into while Alice and, to a lesser degree, Edward were the easiest.

At present, her sisters were debating over purchasing a shawl for her that Alice thought would look absolutely stunning. Sarah was certain that her sisters were unaware of her eavesdropping. The debate continued, not about whether to purchase it or not, but about which color Sarah would like best.

"_Any shade of purple," _she smiled, as she projected her preference at Alice's mind.

Suddenly she heard her pixie of a sister laughing. "That's not fair Sarah," Alice whispered, her tone was one of mock anger. In spite of the great distance and all the city noise, Sarah could hear Alice quite clearly. "We're sorry you couldn't come with us, but that's no excuse for being rude. Now give us some privacy or we won't buy you any presents."

"_Sorry, but I'm bored," _she apologized. This time she projected her thoughts to all three of her sisters.

"We know Kitten," the violin played soothingly. Rose had tried to convince Papa to let her go with them, but to no avail. "But instead of spying on us, why don't you spy on the Volturi. Who knows, you might stumble on some interesting bit of information that Papa and _L'anima Rosa _could use to put Aro and company over a barrel."

"_Alright," _she sent with a sigh, _"But when you guys get back, you have to tell me everything."_

She released her sisters from the focus of her hearing and drew it in closer. A quick run through of nearby stations found her father, Ben, Tobias, and several other members of _L'anima Rosa _in the audience chamber with the Volturi. Briefly she paused to listen to their conversation. It seemed that Ben, much to his disgust and in spite of his vigorous protests against it, was being nominated as Chief Magistrate of the Vampire High Court. She couldn't help her giggles. Why was he surprised, she wondered, after all he had more experience with law than anyone else.

As she scanned through the other minds in the chamber she suddenly realized something wasn't right. The oboe of Aro was there as was the wind in the pine trees that was Marcus, but the angry crackle of the forest fire was missing. Where was Caius?

Sarah fiddled with the tuning knob in her mind until she found him and he wasn't alone. Jane and three other members of the Guard were with him.

"You will find the boy at Meyer Children Hospital of Florence," Caius hissed. "He should be easy enough to deal with."

"I take exception to . . . _hunting_ children." Jane told him flatly. "I do have my limits you know."

"How you take care of him doesn't concern me," Caius growled. "However, it might be best if you didn't imbibe in his sweet offerings. This should look as much like natural causes as possible . . . something that the good doctor won't ask too many questions about."

Sarah was stunned; Caius was putting a hit out . . . on Bart. The angry lion growled deep inside her and at that point she wanted nothing more than to find the loathsome fiend and rip him to shreds. Options to save the boy began to flow rapidly through her head.

"_You made it your private crusade . . . we would have helped you. . ." _Rose's words rang clearly in her mind. This fight was bigger than she was; it was time to call in the Cavalry. She got up from the bench, grabbed her cane from where it stood by the door, and left the apartment. She knew exactly where she was going.

Sarah knocked gently at her parents' apartment door. It didn't take long before her mother answered.

"Kitten, come in." She felt her mother's hand catch her elbow, leading her into the room. "I'm sorry, you must be very lonely with your sisters out. I should have come down to sit with you until their return."

"Mama, I need your help." She was surprised by the amount of panic in her own voice.

"Of course, what is it?"

"I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I was bored." _Why are you apologizing,_ she scolded herself before gathering her thoughts and continuing. "I overheard Caius giving orders to Jane . . . they're going to the hospital to kill Bart. Mama, we have to do something . . . please! We can't just . . . we can't . . . we . . ."

"Shhh," her mother shushed her quiet. Esme's gentle hand stroked Sarah's cheek lightly, brushing away a stray strand of hair. "No one is going to kill innocent children as long as Esme Cullen has anything to say about it."

Her mother's words hadn't stopped ringing in her ears when Sarah's cell phone played the chorus from _Material Girl_ by Madonna, Alice's ring tone. She pressed the button on the Bluetooth.

"I know, Sarah, I just saw it," Alice spoke quickly. "Let me talk to Esme."

Sarah took the ear piece out and held it in her outstretched hand. "Alice wants to speak to you."

Fifteen minutes later, Sarah and her mother were in the parking garage. Esme unlocked the door to the van and helped her climb inside.

"I didn't know you could drive, Mama!"

She heard the beautiful sound of her mother's laughter and it made her smile. "Of course I can drive, Kitten, I just prefer not to. Besides your father and siblings enjoy doing it so much that I usually just let them."

Moments later they were pulling out of the parking garage. Her sisters were on their way and would meet them at the hospital in Florence. Jane and the Guard liked to eliminate their human targets after dark. Sarah overheard their enemy planning their departure for around sundown. It was mid-day now. Hopefully, Team Cullen would all arrive before Jane and her lackeys.

"Raspberries!" her mother exclaimed. It was the closest thing to a swear word that Sarah had ever heard come from her mother's lips. "I forgot to leave Carlisle a note."

"You could call him," Sarah offered.

"No, he's still in committee . . . I don't want to disrupt the proceeding." She heard her mother's fingers drumming on the steering wheel as she thought. "Kitten, do you think you could project to him at this distance?"

"I'll try. What shall I tell him?"

"Everything."

Sarah gathered her concentration and reached for the sound of cathedral bells that represented her father's mind.

"_Papa," _She brushed his mind lightly. _"I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's important . . ."_

* * * *

Carlisle listened as Aro and Ben discussed the best way to seat new judges. Aro favored Volturi appointment . . . not surprisingly, but Tobias feared this would lead to a judiciary that was heavily biased toward Volturi positions. Fortunately the doctor hadn't yet been asked for his opinion. He hoped it would stay that way, however, he knew it was only a matter of time.

"_Papa," _Sarah's mind voice whispered softly in his head. She'd never disturbed him during committee before and her doing so now made him just a little uneasy. He maintained his disinterested look as he waited for her to continue.

"_I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's important."_

Obviously, he mused as he waited for more. Her mind voice was hesitant, which usually meant she was upset about something.

"_I was listening to conversations around the palace and overheard Caius talking to Jane. He's sending her and a couple of others to Florence to kill Bart."_

At this he nearly lost his composure. He wondered what the third Volturi brother was up to when he didn't show up for the morning meeting. Aro said he'd gone off to hunt and hadn't returned yet. Hunting indeed! Even when he lived among them, the triad never hunted for themselves. They always had the Guard bring them their victims and Carlisle didn't see that changing. He had chosen not to call Aro down about the inconsistency, in an attempt at diplomacy.

Mentally, he groaned. The Volturi gave a whole new meaning to the phrase "pit of vipers."

"_We're on our way to Florence . . ." _Sarah continued.

WE! The thought exploded in his mind. Just who exactly comprised _we_? Fortunately even as he thought on this another part of his vast mind was still listening to Sarah.

"_. . . Mama and I are in the van; Alice, Bella and Rose are following. We're going to save him Papa . . . please don't be angry."_

He sighed. How could he be angry, especially after the vision Alice shared with him. At least this time she had exhibited the good sense not to run off on her own. He would have to find an excuse to request an adjournment and make arrangements to follow Esme and the girls. He cast a meaningful glance at Ben before clearing his throat.

"Gentlemen, perhaps it might be a good time to call it a day . . ."

* * * *

Sarah and her mother arrived at the hospital around two thirty in the afternoon. Unfortunately, it was a beautiful sunny day which was a good thing for the humans . . . and a bad thing for vampires. They found a space in the shady reprieve of a parking deck about a block from the hospital, parked the van, and settled in.

"We'll have to wait here until sundown, Kitten," her mother told her quietly. The flutes in her voice played a comforting melody. "I'm sorry, I know you're anxious but . . . rules are rules."

So they waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. In an effort to pass the time, Sarah surfed through the near-by stations until she located Bart's mental signature. Focusing her ears on him, she listened to the sound of his light snoring, the steady beep-beep of the monitors, and the comings and goings of hospital staff from his room.

"How is he?" her mother asked. She must have guessed Sarah was listening to him.

"Sleeping," she answered.

The familiar sound of screeching tires as a vehicle pulled into the deck made her smile. She followed the roaring of the car's high performance engine until it pulled into the space to the left of them. Even though she was in a rental car, Sarah could read the tell tale sounds of Alice's driving. Soon the rear door of the van opened and her three sisters piled inside.

"So, what's the plan?" Alice asked as they settled into the back seat.

"I was thinking our mere presence would be enough to deter Jane and her friends," Esme hummed.

"That's it?" Rose griped. "We're just going to sit around twiddling our thumbs hoping Jane will get nervous and run home with her tail between her legs?"

"Rose, we don't want a fight with the Volturi Guard." Her mother was insistent. "Not with everything the way it is right now, Aro is just looking for an excuse to derail the new government. The wife and children of the Prolocutor fighting with the Guard would give him all the ammunition he needs."

"I hate to be the one pointing out the white elephant in the room," Alice sighed. "But Caius knows that, Jane is counting on it, and if we're going to save Bart . . . um . . . I think we're going to need a better plan."

"What did you have in mind?" her mother asked, the flutes holding notes of curiosity.

"I was thinking something along the lines of protective custody . . . Cullen style." There was a certain mischievousness in Alice's voice that made Sarah's inner lion purr with delight.

* * * *

When Esme deemed it safe, the five Cullen women left the shelter of the parking deck and headed for the hospital's front entrance. Once inside, a quick stop at the information desk and a small lie to the clerk revealed that Bart was on the third floor. They located the elevator and were on their way. Once they reached the third floor, Sarah focused on Bart, following the sound of his breathing through the maze of hallways until they were in front of his door. Discreetly, the five slipped inside.

Esme led Sarah to the edge of the bed. "Be careful," her mother warned in a tone so soft only she would hear it. "Try to touch him only where the blankets cover his skin."

She nodded and then reached out, feeling gently until her hand brushed against a blanket covered arm.

"Bart," she called. "Bart, wake-up."

She heard the boy's breathing change as he stirred into wakefulness.

"It's you . . . you're here," he finally said in a weak voice when he was fully awake. "I knew you weren't just a dream."

Sarah felt herself smiling.

"Who are you?" now Bart's voice held a slight tone of panic. Though her sisters seemed to have disappeared, he must have noticed she wasn't entirely alone.

"It's ok Bart, this is my mother." She patted his arm with extreme care as she said this.

"Is she a dragon too?" Wonder quickly replaced the panic.

"Of course," Sarah heard her mother giggle as she answered. "My name is Esme, and it's a pleasure to finally meet you Bart."

"My three sisters are here too . . . somewhere." She told him so he wouldn't be startled when they showed up again unannounced.

"Wow," Bart gasped. "The Crimson Lady told me that she belonged to a colony of dragons, but . . ."

"The Crimson Lady?" Amusement echoed in her mother's voice. "You mean . . . _Sarah_. You'll have to forgive her, Bart, she's very young and like most nestlings she has a wild imagination. You may call her by her proper name from now on."

The door to the room swished as it opened and Sarah listened as three sets of feet filed in. The sound of their footsteps was accompanied by the squeaking of wheels. Her sisters had either a wheelchair or a gurney with them.

"And these are my other daughters," her mother introduced in her light musical voice, "Alice, Bella, and Rosalie."

"Wow, that's amazing." he croaked weakly, but she could still read the excitement in it. "Five dragons." Then his enthusiasm dropped off. "But there was another one, I remember him. He brought me to the hospital and kept telling me I was going to be alright."

"That would be my mate, Carlisle," her mother explained. "He couldn't come with us today . . . he had some important business to attend to."

"We have to hurry," Alice interrupted, "Jane will be here very soon."

Instinctively, Sarah reached for her mental tuning dial and scanned the stations. Jane's mind always made her hurt when she tuned in to it. She pushed aside the pain and turned up the volume of her hearing. Alice was right; Jane and her two henchmen would be at the hospital's front door in less than thirty minutes.

Without much explanation, Bella put Bart in the wheel chair while Esme disconnected the boy's IV. Sarah heard him whimper as the tape came off and the needle was removed. Meanwhile, Alice stripped the sheets and blanket from the bed.

"Here, Bart," Alice cooed. Sarah listened to the sound of rustling fabric as Alice tucked the blanket around Bart. "We wouldn't want you catching a chill."

"Bella," her pixie of a sister continued her instructions, "You and Rose take the bed sheets and do as we discussed. Esme, Sarah and I will take care of Bart."

With that, they left the room, Rose and Bella going in one direction while Sarah, her mother, sister, and Bart went in another.


	28. Chapter 28

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!!!

Chapter 27

**Protective Custody**

Esme and Alice loaded Bart into the back of the waiting van. In the short time her three sisters were absent from Bart's hospital room, they managed to snag scrubs for everyone, grab a wheelchair for Bart, steal the boy's chart from the nurses' station, and move the van from the parking garage to a loading zone near one of the hospital's less used side entrances. The amount of stuff that they could accomplish in such a short time boggled the mind.

More mind boggling still was the fact that, once changed into hospital garb and with Bart's chart in hand, no one questioned them about where they were taking a patient . . . a patient who just happened to be ten years old and therefore a minor child. Everything seemed perfectly normal to everyone they encountered . . . even the company of an overtly blind _"nurse" _wasn't questioned. Hospital security obviously wasn't a priority. When Sarah leaned over and asked her mother discreetly about this, the flutes laughed warmly.

"Its human nature Kitten," Her mother explained calmly. "Over the years we've learned that, if you look and act like you belong in a place . . . the humans around you will assume that you do. They don't question the obvious."

"But Mama, I'm blind," she insisted, still confused. "That fact alone should have screamed . . . Hello, something's wrong here!"

Her sister giggled. Sarah heard the telltale click as Alice fastened Bart's seatbelt. "But they didn't know you were blind. How could they, you look normal."

"I was carrying a cane . . . a rather expensive and very conspicuous cane."

Esme helped Sarah into the backseat, settling her next to Bart. "But you weren't using it. Your hand rested on the wheelchair the entire time so passersby would naturally assume the cane belonged to the patient. Remember, they don't question the obvious."

She should have been glad of this, glad that no one stopped them and that they were able to escape virtually unnoticed, but somehow it irritated her just a little. What if they were less than benevolent in their intentions? What if they were criminals looking to kidnap a baby from the maternity ward or hit men out to silence a witness to a crime? It would be all too easy.

Sarah listened as her mother and sister climbed into the front of the van. By the sound of things she could tell Alice was behind the wheel. She wasn't surprised that her sister was driving, after all, her mother had told her that she preferred not to.

Once the van began moving, she felt Bart snuggle into her side. With a smile she wrapped her arm around the boy, pulling him closer. She was careful to keep the blanket between them, avoiding any direct contact. In spite of this, he felt warm against her stone cold skin. His was the first real physical human contact that she'd had since awakening to this new life. It seemed strange and pleasant at the same time.

She allowed herself a deep breath, using it to casually take in Bart's scent. Humans as a species shared a common scent, but each individual was slightly different. Under the layer of common human smell Sarah easily picked up the subtle variation that was unique to Bart . . . it was the aroma of PB&J.

She tuned her hearing to his breathing and heart beat. He sounded somewhat better than he had the night in the warehouse, but illness was still evident in him. Bart wasn't well yet and that fact concerned her.

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked. She was feeling a little lost because Alice, whose plan they were following, hadn't told her anything. _Now you know how they feel when you keep them in the dark_, her inner voice scolded.

"Jazz and I own a villa near Milan." Alice supplied. "I thought we'd go there. Carlisle can pass it off as an unexpected spree by his fashion crazy daughter . . . and of course wedding dress shopping for you. Aro won't question it, he's really keen on the idea of you getting married, Sarah. He thinks Ben will somehow settle you . . . Ha ha . . . as if!"

Sarah smiled at her sister's attempt at levity. Bart was snoring softly beside her. The steady hum of the engine combined with the gentle rocking of the moving vehicle had lulled the boy to sleep. Something about him was bothering her; he hadn't spoken much since they took him from his room. She inhaled again, taking in his scent once more, scrutinizing every particle of it. Sickness lingered on him, giving the aroma of PB&J a slightly moldy after note. Cautiously, she placed her palm against his forehead and found him warm . . . extremely warm.

"Mama, I think Bart's running a fever," she whispered.

Her mother's quick movements stirred the air enough that an image of her in glowing points of brilliance flashed against Sarah's black velvet world. Esme was in the back seat with them now, checking Bart over.

"I think your right, Kitten," her mother whispered with concern. She listened as Mama dug through her purse and then dialed her cell phone.

"Esme." She made out her father's voice on the other end of the line. "Where are you, is everything alright?"

"We're on our way to Alice and Jasper's place in Milan," her mother answered. "Listen, we took Bart from the hospital and. . ."

"What exactly do you mean by . . . you _took_ him?" Her father interrupted. He didn't sound angry but he didn't sound happy either.

"Well, Jane and her cronies were nearby so we _took him_ . . . you know protective custody . . . Cullen style." Her mother used Alice's exact words.

"Esme, my love, are you saying that you took Bart from the hospital against medical advice?" Doctor Dad was back and Sarah sensed a brewing lecture.

"Oh no, Carlisle, don't be silly I would never do that," Esme answered innocently. "We didn't bother to _ask_ for medical advice, we just plopped him in a wheelchair and rolled him right out the back door, plain as you please."

"Dear God," she heard her father moan. "Don't tell me, let me guess. This was an Alice plan, right?"

"I heard that," Alice snipped.

"Anyway, Carlisle," her mother went on oblivious to her father's distress. "Bart seems to be running a fever, what do we do?"

"I suppose taking the boy back to the hospital would be too much to ask?"

"I'm sure Jane would appreciate that very much."

He father sighed. "In that case, did you happen to retrieve the boy's chart on your way out?"

"Excuse me, how about a little credit. I'll have you know that I happen to be a doctor's wife and I have learned a thing or two over the years." Her mother's voice was filled with mock sarcasm. "Of course we took the chart, its right here in my lap."

Sarah heard her father chuckle warmly. He wasn't angry; their exchange was just the friendly banter of a comfortably married couple. "Very good, my love, now open it to the section labeled physician's notes and read me the last couple of entries."

"I would love to, darling, but you know I can't read Italian."

"Have Alice do it," he dismissed.

"Hello . . . driving!"

She listened hard but couldn't make out her father's unintelligible mumblings. Finally he spoke up. "Alright have Alice stop at the nearest pharmacy. Purchase a bottle of children's liquid Motrin and a bottle of children's liquid Tylenol. Dose it according to the package directions for his age. Give him the Motrin first and then three hours later give him the Tylenol. Keep alternating them like that at three hour intervals until I get there. Call me if things change or get worse, I'll meet you as soon as I can."

* * * *

With his medical bag in hand, Carlisle made his way cautiously through the corridors of the Volturi palace. A rental car was parked and waiting for him a block from the front gate. If he drove fast and for most of the night, he would reach Milan in the pre-dawn hours.

Before leaving his apartment, he took stock of his supplies—they were woefully inadequate. With no humans in his family at the moment that might require his professional attention, he carried only the basics. Not knowing exactly what he was facing made it hard to anticipate what he might need. That meant he wasn't sure what items he should _borrow_ from the local hospital.

He shook his head, perhaps it was just as well. While he wasn't above stealing what he needed, at times it did rake at his conscience. It tended to hurt him more if the hospital he pilfered from was one of those small regional ones that always seemed to struggle financially. To ease the burden on his soul he usually arranged some large anonymous gift. Ben always helped him with his charitable endowments.

Carlisle allowed that train of thought to fade and switched to another one as he navigated the maze of hallways He focused his mind, mulling over the most recent information he had on Bartholomew's condition. It was several days old, but better than nothing.

He wasn't paying attention and it almost scared him senseless when he rounded a corner and was nearly knocked to the ground by Benjamin. His long time friend was returning from hunting; Ben's eyes were bright crimson with the recent infusion of fresh human blood.

"Carlisle, where are you going at this hour?" Ben asked.

He didn't have time for a casual chat. "Come with me, I'll explain everything on the way."

* * * *

The villa was, in fact, a huge mansion. It was larger than the home that all nine of them shared in Forks. According to Alice, it was an anniversary gift from Jasper. A fashionable home in the world's fashion mecca for his little fashion queen. Somehow, in a sick twisted sort of way, it made perfect sense.

Sarah hung on Alice's arm while Esme carried Bart. Their feet clattered loudly through the stone floored foyer and made muffled sound on the carpeted stairs. When they reached the second floor, her sister led them to one of the bedrooms. Sarah listened as her mother settled Bart in bed. Already, they had given him a dose of Motrin and a dose of Tylenol. He wasn't due his next dose of Motrin for some time yet. Still, in spite of the medicine already in his system, his fever raged.

"I'll get some wash cloths and a basin of cool water," Alice suggested and disappeared in an instant.

Sarah sat on the edge of the bed listening to Bart's fevered moans. She groped over the covers until she found his hot little hand, then she gently grasped it and brought it up to her cheek.

"We're doing what we can, Kitten," her mother assured her, but the assurance did nothing to abate her concern.

"Mama," the boy murmured, his fevered state obviously had him delirious. "Mama, where are you?"

His incoherent pleading broke Sarah's heart.

"Answer him, Kitten," Esme whispered in a low voice that only she would hear.

"Bart . . . it's me, Sarah," she whispered, still holding his fiery hand against her ice cold cheek. "I'm here Bart; you're going to be ok."

She heard the door to the bedroom open again and listened as Alice crossed the room. "I've got water and some hand towels for cold compresses. Maybe that will help."

Sarah listened as Esme submerged one of the hand towels in the water and wrung it out before placing it on Bart's forehead. Suddenly she felt very helpless. The boy that she had boldly challenged three armed thugs to save now lay struggling against an even more dangerous foe and this time she was powerless to do anything. The feeling made her thoroughly disgusted with herself.

With out warning, the whole bed began shaking and Bart's hand squeezed hers with incredible force, jerking with the spasms that rocked his small frame.

"His fever is causing him to have a seizure!" Alice exclaimed. It was the most panic Sarah had ever heard in her sister's voice. "It's imperative that we get his temperature down."

When Bart's wild writhing stopped her mother dialed the phone again and soon the steady calm voice of Papa came on the line.

"I'm in route now, just hang in there." She heard her father's encouragement, then he asked, "How's he doing?"

"His fever won't break and he just had a seizure," her mother sounded very concerned.

"Strip him down to his underwear and put him in the bath tub." The voice of Doctor Dad instructed. "The water should be just slightly tepid . . . too cold and you risk shocking him, too warm and it won't effectively cool him."

"I'll draw the water," she heard Alice say before leaving for the guest bathroom. The sound of running water soon found its way to Sarah's ears.

"He's unconscious Carlisle, if we put him in the tub he'll drown."

"Unconsciousness is a common occurrence after a seizure my love," her father soothed. "You'll have to get into the tub with him. Make sure his head stays out of the water."

Soon Sarah found herself sitting on the fake fur covered toilet lid in her sister's guest bathroom. By the way the sounds resonated through the room, she could tell the bathroom was enormous, and probably very over the top like all things Alice. Somewhere in the distant vastness of her mind, her humorous side found it funny that a vampire would be sitting on the john but she squished that thought and focused her attention on Bart.

Esme had him in the tub with her in an effort to bring his fever down. Alice estimated his core temperature to be somewhere between 102 and 103 degrees, definitely not a healthy range for humans. Alice had just managed to get another dose of Motrin down him when Sarah noticed a slight change in Bart's personal scent.

"I think he's going to have another one." Sarah had noticed the same slight change the last time, but didn't know what it meant. No sooner had the words left her lips than she heard water splashing and Bart's harsh heavy breathing. Though the attack lasted less than a minute, it seemed to go on for much longer. Pain gripped Sarah's chest making breathing difficult. She wanted desperately to do something for poor Bart but she couldn't.

"How did you do that?" Alice asked when Bart was still again.

"I could smell it coming," she replied when she finally managed to force her lungs to work again.

"That's amazing, Kitten, I didn't smell anything. Did you Alice?" Her mother asked casually. Her calm tone changed suddenly when Alice didn't answer right away. "What is it Alice . . . what do you see?"

Her sister's silence continued for several more minutes and when she finally spoke she sounded tired and very sad. "It's not good."

Sarah felt trembling hands come to rest on her shoulders; Alice was kneeling before her and her pixie of a sister was shaking. "Sarah . . . oh God, Sarah . . . do you. . ." Her sister paused and swallowed hard. "Do you want to save Bart?"

What did Alice mean by that, Sarah wondered, as the question rattled around inside her skull. The heavy air of sadness in the pitch of her sister's voice as she asked this disturbed her even more. After a moment she answered.

"Of course, what do I do?"

Alice squeezed her shoulders, an effort to strengthen and prepare her for what was to come. The sinking feeling in Sarah's stomach made her want to retch.

"This fever is going to kill him Sarah, it's not going to break . . . and I don't see Carlisle being able to do anything, even if he does manage get here in time." One of her sister's hands came up to stroke her cheek and, after a long sigh, she spoke the words that chilled Sarah's already cold heart. "If you want him to live . . . you're going to have to bite him. It's the only way."

"Alice!" Her mother exploded, practically shouting the name. "Have you lost your mind . . . do you know what you're saying? An immortal child Alice, that's what you're suggesting . . . the Volturi will kill both of them!"

"No Esme," Alice insisted, and then her words became more pleading. "My vision doesn't show that. Sarah bites him and he lives, but remains human . . . trust me Mama, please."

"How is that possible?" Confusion and anxiety played a sad symphony as her mother spoke.

"I don't know," Alice answered flatly. "All I can tell you is what I see."

One word spilled from Sarah's mouth. "Cane."

"I know, Sis, I know." Her sister's hand continued to stroke Sarah's cheek. "The choice you have to make is impossibly hard, and Cane's filthy memory doesn't make it any easier. Just know that no matter what you decide to do . . . we'll all love and support you in it."

"How long?" She needed time to pull herself together and think.

"In less than half an hour he'll have another seizure. This one will last for nearly five minutes . . . after that they'll start coming back to back," Alice told her plainly then her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "He won't live to see the sun rise."

"What if I lose control . . . what if _I _kill him?"

"I don't see that happening," Alice assured her. "You won't lose control, because you don't want to be like that monstrous butcher that took your family away from you. Let me tell you something Sarah . . . you're a hundred times better than that pathetic piece of filth. Cane and his grotesque bestial tendencies are so far beneath you that . . . I can honestly say . . . I don't know why you worry over them so. You're better than that Sarah, trust me, I know you are."

It took an inordinately long time for Alice's words to register in her mind. Thoughts swirled in her head like turbulent flood waters. When she was finally able to speak it felt as though her mouth was filled with thick gumbo mud, the words were barely able to make their way out past her tongue.

"How . . . what do I do . . . I want to save him, help me."

With in seconds she heard the sound of a commotion as water sloshed in the tub. Her first fear was that they were too late and Bart was having his awful five minute seizure, but soon she realized that Alice was lifting Bart from the tub.

Her sister took her by the elbow and guided her to the spot where she laid Bart in the floor.

"Bite him on the neck, the soft fleshy area just below his ear; you'll sense a strong pulse there," her mother instructed her. She sounded tired and empty like a convicted criminal resigned to his fate. "Try to swallow as little of his blood as possible while still working your venom into the wound. If it looks as though you're losing it, Alice and I will stop you."

"How will I know when I've given him enough?" She really didn't relish the thought of biting Bart in the first place. She certainly didn't want to overdo things.

"We'll let you know," Alice insisted. She was rubbing Sarah's back now and it was very comforting.

Sarah took a deep breath and bent over Bart's helpless body. Instinctively she found the spot below his ear and she felt her venom glands tingle as the liquid began pooling against her tongue. Hesitantly she opened her mouth, lowering it to the boy's red hot skin. She wanted to cry as she clamped down and her teeth pierced Bart's tender flesh. Like the distant rumble of thunder she heard Cane's wicked laughter in the back of her mind and tasted Alberto's filth as it filled her mouth until her stomach rolled.

Thankfully, her mind went numb after that and she was aware of very little until she felt Alice nudging her.

"That's enough Sarah, you can stop now," Alice whispered softly. Her hand had never left the spot between Sarah's shoulder blades, never stopped rubbing small tight circles there. "Now, lick the wound to seal it."

Sarah obeyed and once the wound was closed she collapsed into Alice's arms sobbing so hard her whole body shook with the force of her emotional release.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Notes:**

I was going to put this at the beginning of the chapter as a kind of disclaimer but I decided to put it at the end instead. This was a very difficult chapter for me to write for many reasons. It was very hard on Sarah too.

Before any of you ask, no I don't have any formal medical training. I do have two children; the youngest is asthmatic and had febrile seizures as a small child. They are scary as hell to watch and they make you feel absolutely helpless as a parent. The treatment for fever that Carlisle advised for Bart is based on the treatment my youngest son's pediatrician advised for him when he was little.

**THIS IS BY NO MEANS intended to be construed as expert medical advice!!!! **

If you're sick . . . don't be an idiot, see a doctor!!That should go without saying . . . but I'm saying it anyway.

**Seizures** are very serious business, they can be caused by all sorts of conditions including fever, stroke, brain tumors, complications of illicit drug use and a whole host of other things . . . if you're with someone who is having one, stay calm and call 911.

My deepest apologies to the fine folks at Meyer Children Hospital, I'm quite sure your state of the art institution is very security conscious. I took artistic liberties for the purpose of storytelling only.


	29. Chapter 29

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!!!

Chapter 28

**In My Father's Arms**

Carlisle and Ben arrived at Alice's villa just as the morning sky turned periwinkle and coral. Neither of them had received any more word of Bart's condition since the doctor ordered him into the tub. This fact left Carlisle feeling torn; either the treatment had worked and Bart's fever finally broke . . . or . . . it hadn't and he was in for a long painful day of consoling Sarah.

They found the front door unlocked and quickly made their way up the stairs to the second floor.

"In here," he heard Esme call from one of the closed bedrooms.

He reached with apprehension for the door knob and paused to gather himself before entering. In the silence, his predator's ears suddenly picked up the steady thrumming of a human heart. A relieved smile spread across his face as he breathed a sigh. The boy was still alive and he wouldn't have to face Sarah's grief. The well of his daughter's courage and strength was deeper than any he had ever seen. She truly possessed the heart of a lion, but the sight of her in pain made the father in him acutely aware of all his inadequacies.

He opened the door slowly; by the sound of the boy's breathing he could tell the lad was sleeping. As he entered the room, he noticed Bart tucked neatly in the middle of the large bed, eyes closed and snoring softly. Esme and Bella sat on either side of him. His mate's finger came to her lips, indicating they should keep quiet.

"How is he?" Carlisle whispered as he approached the bed and set his bag down.

"Fine," Esme answered just as softly. "He's been sleeping for some time now."

"When did he get his last dose of medicine for fever?" he asked as he rummaged through his bag for his thermometer. He needed an accurate account of the boy's temperature.

"Right after we called you."

Carlisle's head snapped up and he glared at his mate in confusion. "Love, I said alternate them every three hours. He should have had one more dose since then and you should be preparing to give him another one shortly."

"He doesn't need it," Esme answered flatly.

"Esme, his fever may be down at the moment, but he obviously has an infection," He chided his wife gently. "He could spike a fever again at any time, we need to prevent that. Now go measure out a dose of Motrin while I examine him."

"He's not sick, Carlisle, can't you see he . . ."

"Esme, my love, it's obvious that you and the girls have put forth a Herculean effort on Bart's behalf, but I must insist . . ."

"Smell him Carlisle," Esme interrupted him, a faint half smile curled on one side of her mouth making, her look like a modern day Mona Lisa.

With out taking his eyes off his wife, he inhaled deeply. There wasn't the slightest hint of illness in the boy's scent. Confusion made deep furrows in his forehead.

"He had another seizure in the tub and then Alice had a vision," Esme explained. "She said that Bart wouldn't live to see the sunrise unless . . . unless . . . Sarah bit him, so she . . ."

"Light of Heaven, woman!" Ben exploded. "Please tell me you didn't let my naive little love bite a ten year old boy!"

"Benjamin," Carlisle's voice took on a note of warning. "Kindly mind your tone when you address my mate."

"Your mate!" Ben growled. Carlisle had never seen his friend so out of control. "Sarah's death warrant is practically sealed and you're concerned about the tone I take with your mate," Ben snorted in disgust. "Well, I'm not going to stand by and let this travesty happen. I'm taking this situation in hand right now!"

To Carlisle's shock and horror, Ben made a sudden lunge for the bed only to find his way blocked by Esme and Bella. The doctor inserted himself between his angry friend and his wife and child.

"There's no need for rash action Ben," Carlisle reasoned as he stared into his friend's burgundy eyes. He didn't want to fight his youngest daughter's mate, but he would if he had too.

"I knew this would happen," he went on, trying to defuse Benjamin's fury. "Alice told me about it, she saw it in a vision. What you're afraid of won't come to pass . . . Sarah's bite won't turn Bart, he'll stay human." He paused a moment and then added, "And there's more. Alice saw the three of you together, as a family . . . you're going to adopt him Ben . . . he's going to be your son."

He watched as Ben took several steps backwards, shock and confusion evident on his face. "And you're swallowing this ridiculous dog and pony story," Ben growled. "You're willing to wager Sarah's life on Alice's demon-cursed witch sight and you expect _me_ to bet her life on it as well. I've waited five centuries to find my mate, Carlisle; I'm not ready to lose her now."

Without warning, the door to the room burst open and Rose stormed in looking angrier than a wet cat in a hurricane. She poked her finger in Ben's face as she laid into him. "I swear to God, Benjamin Wiseman, you're the most pathetic jerk I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. What Sarah sees in you I'll never understand, but you're nowhere near good enough for her.

"If you don't straighten up and get your ass off your shoulders I'm going to beat the ever lovin' crap out of you!"

"Not in the house, please, I've spent a lot of money decorating this place," Alice chimed in from somewhere down the hall. "Some of it is _irreplaceable_."

Rose seemed to ignore her sister's request. "Sarah saved that poor child's life and all you can do is stand there and bellyache about it! Do you have any idea how hard it was for her . . . how absolutely devastated she is at this very moment because she did the unthinkable . . ._ she bit a human_!

"My little sister has more courage in her pinky finger than you have in your whole worthless body. My nephew is alive because she put aside her fear and did what had to be done . . . something, I might add, that _I _doubt I could have done at her age.

"And speaking of my new nephew, just what are you going to do about him anyway . . . kill the boy?! Big bad _Crimson Paladin_ is going to murder an innocent child in cold blood . . . are you planning to drain him dry, tough guy? I can't wait to hear the load of BS you shovel out to explain that one to Sarah . . . but as soon as you're finished . . . I'm going to rip your ugly head off!"

"Rosalie, that's quite enough," Carlisle warned quietly. Inside he was proud of the way Rose came to her sister and new nephew's defense, but she'd said her piece and there was no need to take things too far.

"Oh it's not nearly enough, Carlisle. I've got plenty more to say to this . . ."

"Rosalie!" He watched her bite back the rest of her remarks, but amber fire still burned in her eyes. Then he turned his attention back to his future son-in-law. "Benjamin has a lot of information to reflect on right now, let's not overload him. It wouldn't be fair."

Ben's eyes darted nervously from Rose to Bella, to Esme, and then back to Carlisle. "Where's Sarah, I want to see her."

"Of course," Carlisle soothed, "Just as soon as you've settled down some. If I'm to believe Rose and, knowing Sarah as well as I do, she's very distraught right now. She doesn't need you making it worse."

"I'm her mate," Ben insisted.

"All the more reason for you to be collected when you see her . . . she needs your strength," Carlisle corrected his friend. "There's more to being mates than just snuggling and happy warm feelings. You're responsible for each other and that means putting your mate's needs before your own."

Carlisle and Ben continued staring at each other until the older vampire turned and left the room. The doctor continued to listen to his friend's footfalls until he heard the front door open and close.

"Good riddance," he heard Rose grump under her breath.

The doctor shook his head. "That's not nice Rose. Benjamin is a good man. He loves Sarah and he's very worried about her . . . cut him a little slack."

* * * *

After taking time to give Bart a complete examination, Carlisle left the boy in the care of Esme, Bella, and Rose while he headed off to attend to Sarah. According to his wife's account, the experience of biting the boy left her devastated. Her control had been extraordinary; she was focused and collected the entire time, and only lost her emotional balance after it was over.

She didn't swallow a single drop of Bart's blood, allowing it instead to drool out and puddle on Alice's bathroom floor. He was sure Alice wasn't thrilled about this, but it was certainly better for Sarah. More remarkable still was that she willingly released him from her bite as soon as Alice told her to.

There were few things that astounded Carlisle these days, but his examination of Bart left him amazed. The first thing he noticed was the abatement of the lad's fever. When questioned, Esme told him that Bart's temperature was back to normal within an hour of Sarah's having bitten him.

The next thing he noticed was the boy's shattered nose. The swelling and most of the bruising was gone. With a gentle touch he tested the bone, the rate of regeneration was incredible, and he speculated that within the next twelve to eighteen hours Bart's nose would be perfect again.

Finally he took a listen to Bart's heart and lungs. Both sounded strong and clear. Every evidence that the poor boy had ever had asthma had vanished and, had he not known about the condition before hand, he would have scoffed at the very idea of Bart being sickly. Also gone was the slight heart murmur that he had detected at the warehouse.

The only thing now was for the boy to wake up. Esme asked him when he thought this might occur, but in all honesty he had no idea. This wasn't the sleep of transformation, this was something very different. Bart would wake from his slumber _whole _but still _wholly_ human, something that had never happened before in the history of the Vampire Nation. Bitten but not killed, bitten but not turned . . . bitten and made healthy and whole again. With Sarah came the dawning of a bright new day.

Outside Alice and Jasper's bedroom, Carlisle paused; from within he could hear Sarah's soft dry sobs and Alice's soothing whispers. She was agonizing over her actions, in spite of the good she'd done. His chest tightened as he called to mind each time he had made the same fateful decision, the agony he endured as he knowingly sank his teeth into each tender neck. He, better than anyone, understood what she was feeling. When he collected himself again he knocked lightly.

"Come in, Carlisle," Alice called softly from within.

Slowly he opened the door and entered the room. His heart sank to his feet at the sight of his little Sarah. She was lying on her side in the middle of Alice's huge bed curled in a tight fetal ball and sobbing tears that would never come. Alice sat on the edge of the bed stroking Sarah's soft mahogany hair as she whispered soothing words to her. Reverently he crossed the room to stand beside Alice, putting a fatherly hand on her shoulder.

"How is she?" he asked. The question seemed a little clinical, but he couldn't think of anything else at the moment.

"She's pretty broken up." Alice answered plainly. "What were you expecting?"

What _were _you expecting; he chided himself, to find her all smiles and sunshine? He shook his head; she was going through the same emotional wringer that he had the first time he bit someone. Even though Elizabeth had begged him on her death bed to save Edward, the guilt and shame of actually having bitten another human had been overwhelming. Worse yet for him, he had condemned Edward to this hellish existence by selfishly granting his mother's dying wish. Though Carlisle was long forgiven for this trespass by his son, the guilt still twisted in his chest like a dagger from time to time.

"I'd better go find Rose and calm her down before she goes looking for Benjamin . . . and hurts him," Alice sighed. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Sarah?"

A faint smile turned up the corners of his mouth, Alice was excusing herself so he could be alone with his youngest. He wanted to thank her for her thoughtfulness but the look in her golden eyes told him it was unnecessary.

"Of course, it would be my pleasure."

Carlisle watched Alice leave before settling on the edge of the bed in the spot she had just vacated. Sarah winced as his weight settled beside her and she whimpered softly. Slowly, gently he reached out and began stroking her hair as Alice had been doing.

"Papa," she squeaked, between sobs.

"Shhh, its ok, honey, I'm here now." She'd gone through this whole horrible experience without his help, but he wouldn't leave his baby girl now. He continued to stroke her hair, brushing a stray strand away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Papa, I . . . I . . ." her words broke off as she tried to speak between sobs.

He knew what she was trying to build up to and he wanted to tell her it was unnecessary, but he also knew she needed to do this. "_Confession is good for the soul,_" his father's voice echoed in the back of his mind. So he continued his tender ministrations as he waited for Sarah to speak again.

"I bit him, Papa." The words tumbled from her mouth too quickly for her to edit. "I bit Bart . . . Alice told me he would die if I didn't . . . I'm sorry, Papa." Her sobbing continued with renewed vigor when she finished speaking.

Without a word, Carlisle gently scooped his youngest up, taking her in his arms and settling her in his lap. He pulled her in tightly against his chest and stroked her hair as he slowly rocked her like an infant. Without initially realizing it, he found himself humming one of Esme's unnamed melodies. Slowly she began to relax and her sobbing tapered off until it subsided altogether.

"I know all about what happened," he admitted to her calmly as he continued petting her. "The fact of the matter is Alice told me about this several days ago. I'm the one who should be saying sorry. I kept her vision from you . . . I didn't want to further upset you, especially after your encounter with Alberto."

"I couldn't . . . let him die . . . Papa," she stuttered. She was still recovering from her bout of emotions. "I . . . can't explain . . . why."

"You don't have to explain, honey," he soothed. "Remember, I've done this four times myself. If anyone in this family can honestly tell you that they understand . . . it's me."

It was true, each time he'd taken it upon himself to impart his gift and add to his family, he couldn't explain exactly why he'd done it. He made all manner of excuses to himself; loneliness on his own part, fulfilling a dying woman's last wish, a desire to provide lasting companionship for one of his children, his selfish deep-seated need for normalcy and a family, the list was endless.

All of it was true and yet none of it was true. Then his father's voice purred in the back of his mind, _"There is a time and a season for all things under heaven my son." _His father had never been a particularly tolerant man nor one given to lavishing affection on his son but, in death and in Carlisle's subconscious, he'd finally offered the wise paternal counsel the doctor had been desperately looking for.


	30. Chapter 30

**Note: **I do not own Twilight or it's characters!!!

Chapter 29

**Comforts of Home**

Sarah sat on the front porch in her favorite rocking chair listing to the comforting sounds of the forest. Presently her hearing was focused on a family of foxes about a half mile away. The fox kits were harassing their mother who was just returning from a night of hunting. The kits were hungry and they wanted their breakfast. As she continued to listen, she took a deep breath of the damp air; it would be raining before the end of the morning. A smile curled her lips; she was more than happy to be safe and sound at home.

For a while, Sarah was afraid they would never get home. In all, they had spent two weeks with the Volturi. Her father along with Tobias, Waymon, and Peter went round after round with the triad as they set the foundation for the new government. From her perspective, it seemed the triad maintained most of its original power but that power was no longer absolute. The real difference was in the system of checks and balances established with the formation of the Council and the Judiciary.

In the house, she could hear her father getting ready for another day at the hospital while her mother hummed busily in the kitchen making breakfast for Bart. The boy was adjusting to his new life in the company of _"dragons" _very well. There had been a few tense moments in Italy when the Volturi found out about Sarah's indiscretion, but a private meeting between Papa, Tobias, and Aro set things straight.

In the end, her father explained that while her bite hadn't transformed Bart, he was quite certain that Sarah's DNA had been passed to the boy, making him a sort of half-breed. Viewed in this light the Volturi leader and collector of rarities found the prospect of letting the boy live intriguing, if simply to see what he would develop into.

The decision made Caius absolutely livid.

It was agreed that Bart would be the sole responsibility of the Cullen family and just as soon as Sarah and Benjamin got married . . . if they were married, they would officially adopt him.

According to the cover story Alice concocted, Bart was Sarah's long lost baby brother who had also survived the horrible massacre of their family. For the purpose of forgery, he took on the last name of his first _'foster'_ family, becoming Bartholomew Xavier Dupree. The surname was actually her grand-mère Babineaux's maiden name.

This was an easier lie to pull off since Bart was ten and Sarah had just turned twenty when Cane inadvertently changed her. Her father speculated that, like Nessie, Bart would age to physical maturity much more quickly with the introduction of vampire DNA into his genetic code and so the discrepancy of the two extra years between Bart's true age and that of her real baby brother wouldn't matter much.

The actual police records showed that the body of Sarah's infant brother, William, was never recovered from the crime scene. According to Alice's fabrication, Bart was found abandoned as an infant. Because Sarah's baby brother was presumed dead, the authorities never drew any connection between the missing body of the Babineaux boy and the foundling.

By the time they were ready to leave Italy, Jasper had sent a package of false documents for Bart to Alice via Fed Ex. These included a new birth certificate, passport, immunization records, school transcripts and foster care records.

The forged documents showed that Bart had bounced around through the Louisiana foster care system since he was 18 months old. The recent publicity surrounding the death of Sarah's aunt brought the two lost siblings together again. It was a heartwarming story and Alice worked every angle of it until it glistened like a diamond.

A sudden twinge of pain shot through Sarah's chest, both for her long lost family and for her current misery. While having Bart in her life was a million kinds of wonderful, she hadn't heard anything from her mate since he angrily stormed out of Alice's villa in Milan. No phone calls, no e-mails, no nothing and when she tried to call him, her calls went straight to Benjamin's voice mail.

"I'll see you this afternoon, Kitten." The sound of her father's voice startled her from her thoughts. "Your mother and I will take you hunting."

She didn't want to hunt; she'd had no appetite since the night Ben left. "I don't really want to go Papa," she sighed. The illuminated images of Ben's handsome face in ten thousand points of fire and the melodic croon of his saxophone voice flashed through her mind making her frown.

"Starving yourself won't make him come back, sweetheart," her father counseled gently. "And you have Bart to think about now, he needs you."

He was right, of course, but it did nothing for her lack of appetite. "Why is Ben so angry with me . . . what did I do to make him hate me so?"

She listened as her father set down his bag by the front steps and walked towards her; the floor boards of the porch creaked and groaned under his weight with each step. He sat down in the rocker next to hers and she heard him sigh. His hand found hers and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Now, Sarah," her father soothed. "I know for a _fact_ that Benjamin loves you very much."

"But Papa, he just walked out. He hasn't called me, he won't answer any of my calls . . . he . . ."

"Shhh. I know, honey, I know," he quieted her, cutting off the rest of her remarks. "Would you mind if your old Papa gave you some advice regarding men . . . I happen to be quite an expert on the subject you know . . . seeing as how I am one."

Sarah found herself laughing in spite of her down mood, it felt good. She nodded and waited for the impartation of her father's wisdom.

"As a general rule, we men are peculiar creatures," her father began. "Especially when it comes to our emotional lives. We have a difficult time displaying certain emotions, most notably those which we perceive as being signs of weakness . . . fear is one of these weak emotions. Typically when a man is afraid, he will mask his fear with another, more powerful and more stereotypically masculine emotion . . . like anger."

"Are you trying to say, Ben's afraid of me?" The thought of her true love being afraid of her made her sorrow even worse.

"Well, not exactly, honey . . . he's not afraid _of you_." Her father paused and she sensed he was choosing his words carefully. "More like . . . he's afraid of _losing you_."

Sarah's brows crinkled and her face contorted with her confusion. "That doesn't make sense, Papa. If that's true . . . why has he . . . rejected me?"

There you said it, her inner voice purred, and nothing bad happened, the earth didn't open up and swallow you, the sun didn't fall from the sky, and the moon didn't collide with the earth. In spite of this small comfort, the pain of hearing the words out loud was almost more than she could bear.

"Benjamin hasn't rejected you sweetheart; he's your life mate and life mates can't reject one another . . . its impossible," his voice was soft but insistent. "He just needs time to come to terms with his feelings."

She gave her Papa the best questioning look she could muster and heard him chuckle in response.

"Relationships in general, but especially romantic relationships, among humans are much more fluid than they are among . . . our kind." The bells in his voice tolled in their comforting, teaching tone. "Due to the nature of our incredibly long lives, we develop deep lasting bonds. While you might find some elasticity within our family unit . . . that is to say from time to time a pair of my children might live separately from the rest of us, we never cease being one family. You will never, however, find individuals of a mated pair living separately.

"We mate for eternity . . . for each individual, there is only one true life mate. God forbid it, but if something should ever happen to Esme . . . I would spend the rest of my forever alone. Some of us, like you, are fortunate enough to find their mate fairly quickly. Others, like Benjamin, wait centuries in abject loneliness for _the one_."

"He'll be back, Sarah," her father insisted as he stood to leave for work. "Just have patience and, in the mean time, Bart needs all the attention and affection you can give him."

* * * *

Carlisle pulled his Mercedes into his reserved space in front of the hospital and killed the engine. He sat for a moment thinking back over his earlier conversation with Sarah. It pained him to see his little girl in so much agony, but he knew the advice he'd given her was true. In his effort to find some way to resolve her current dilemma, he had privately consulted Alice.

"My visions haven't changed, I still see Sarah and Ben getting married and Bart becoming their son," Alice assured him. "But right now, Benjamin is being pig-headed . . . he's trying to pull an Edward."

The words _pull an Edward_ made him cringe. He still felt guilty for allowing his son to hurt himself and Bella through sheer stupidity. He wasn't about to let it happen again.

"What do you suggest?" He had to do something.

"I don't know." Alice shrugged as she went back to reading her magazine. "Have you considered borrowing Charlie's shot gun? I hear they're all the rage at weddings these days. I could tie a nice big bow with an accenting floral spray around the barrels and get the groom's name painted in gold letters on the shell casings. Nothing says _'I love you'_ like a good old fashioned shot gun wedding."

He laughed at Alice's suggestion but, deep down he had to admit, it was tempting. Ben was hurting Sarah, and Carlisle was just about fed up with it.

He left his car and headed for the hospital entrance. Once inside he engrossed himself with unusually keen interest in the morning report meetings and then lost himself completely in rounds. All the while a small corner of his vast mind ruminated on what might be done to snap Ben to his senses.

Around mid day, he retreated to the sanctuary of his office for his lunch break. With the door closed tightly he sank into the comfort of his leather desk chair and tossed his cell phone on the desk. For a long time he stared at the sleek black phone. A part of him was hoping he would hear Agatha's familiar voice over the hospital's intercom paging him to some emergency or other, but it didn't happen. When he wanted disruptions, he never got them.

With a sigh he picked up the phone, scrolled through the phonebook, and called the appropriate number. He held his breath as he waited for the line to pickup. Moments before he knew the call would go to voice mail there was a click followed by a brief silence and then a familiar voice.

"Hello, Carlisle."

"Hello, Benjamin," he greeted in return. "For a minute, I though you weren't going to answer."

"For a minute . . . I wasn't," his friend admitted.

There was a long pause as Carlisle decided how best to proceed. He hadn't really thought through the details of what he might say. "I told Aro and the Volturi that your sudden departure was the result of an urgent case that required your immediate return to the States. They seemed to buy into it very well . . . I hope that was satisfactory."

"Yes. Thank you, that was very thoughtful."

Another awkward pause ensued; this time Ben broke it. "I trust the negotiations went well and everything is still on track."

"Yes, of course. Tobias and I are to meet with the Volturi again in a few months to discuss how individuals who wish candidacy in the general election can be verified."

"Will my presence be required?" he asked casually. Ben's demeanor was starting to irritate Carlisle, but he remained calm.

"I should think so. You are Chief Magistrate after all, the law is your specialty."

"I see." Ben took a deep breath. "Well, keep me posted won't you . . . e-mail me with the details so that I can arrange my schedule accordingly."

"I'm sorry Benjamin." Carlisle was feeling especially wicked. "I don't think I have your personal e-mail address, but if you would be so kind as to give it to me I'll be more than happy to keep you abreast."

There was yet another long awkward pause before Ben cleared his throat and replied. "I believe Sarah has my personal e-mail address, have her give it to you."

"Uhm, about that." _Manipulation is a treacherous sin, I raised you better than that, Carlisle Cullen_, his father's voice scolded as he launched into his performance. It was true of course, but what other choice did he have. "Sarah isn't a very reliable source for information at the moment . . . especially where you're concerned."

"Is she . . . unwell?" The casual tone of Ben's voice cracked a little and Carlisle smiled.

"You could say that," he answered in a short, dismissive tone. "But I'm sure you have more pressing matters to concern yourself with than the state of my daughter's health. I'll tell you what, shoot me an e-mail and I'll capture your address from that. It'll be simpler that way . . . don't you agree?"

"I don't mean to pry, but . . . what's wrong with Sarah?" Ben was almost apologetic as he asked this.

Perhaps, Carlisle thought, he was laying it on a tad too thick, but he continued on anyway.

"It's nothing her mother and I can't deal with," he dismissed. "Really, you needn't concern yourself."

"Oh, I see," Ben sighed. "Well . . . I just thought that . . . I mean I . . . well I . . ."

"I can see that I've distracted you from your work long enough," Carlisle interrupted him. "And I need to get back to the ER. Send me the e-mail . . . ok?" He acted as though he was about to hang up but paused short of pressing the button that would end the call.

"Wait, Carlisle, are you still there?"

He put the phone back to his ear. "I am. Was there something more you wanted?"

"Will you tell Sarah that I said . . ."

"No I will _not_," Carlisle interrupted his friend sternly. "In fact, I have no intention whatsoever of mentioning this conversation to my daughter."

"But Carlisle, she's . . . my . . . mate," Ben stuttered in protest.

"Is she now?" he goaded. "You stormed from Alice's villa, presumably to get some air, and you never returned. You haven't called her and won't answer or return any of her calls. You don't reply to her numerous e-mails. In short, you've completely cut her off . . . and yet you still wish to invoke your rights as her mate. I'm sorry, Benjamin, but I have a problem with that."

"You don't understand," Ben muttered. "It's complicated."

"Try me!" Carlisle scoffed. "With a wife, seven children, _two_ grandchildren, and a great grandchild on the way I have a hundred years of experience with _complicated_."


	31. Chapter 31

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight

Chapter 30

**The Flight of Dragons**

**_________________________________________________________________**

"_**There was a time between the waning age of enchantment and the dawning age of logic when Dragons flew the skies free and unencumbered."**_

**Carolinus the green wizard**

_**The Flight of Dragons**_

**__________________________________________________________________ **

Carlisle and Esme sat on the new sofa Sarah bought to replace the one she destroyed. They snuggled together as they listened to their youngest tucking Bart in for the night. She was telling him a bedtime story about, of all things, dragons.

His earlier conversation with Ben hadn't ended the way he had hoped it would. It seemed his longtime friend was intent on proving Alice's vision wrong. Benjamin's plan, such as it was, allowed Sarah to raise Bart . . . alone, and in a dozen or so years when the boy was all grown, he would sashay back into Sarah's life again.

The whole sordid affair made Carlisle's non-existent blood boil, especially the pathetic excuse his friend gave to justify his decision.

"He's a human Carlisle," Ben had pleaded. "What if I slip up and lose control, I could end up killing the boy. How would I ever explain that to Sarah . . . how could I ever face her after . . . murdering her son."

Benjamin's cowardice hadn't ended there. The favor he asked of the doctor nearly made Carlisle want to hop on the next plane to New York, and tear Ben's head off.

"I know it's a lot to ask under the circumstances, but could you see your way clear to break things to her." Ben sounded as despondent as Sarah had been acting.

"Most certainly not!" he remembered bellowing over the phone. "You were man enough to enter my study and ask her mother and me for our permission to court Sarah. You were man enough to propose to her on our front porch and put your ring on her finger. If this is your intention . . . forcing her to endure a dozen or more years of agony, while you act like a fool. . .then you can be man enough to inform of her that decision _yourself_!"

With that Carlisle had simply hung up. Even now thinking about his conversation with Ben made him furious all over again. To distract himself he focused his predatory hearing on Bart's bedroom. Sarah was giggling at the question the boy had just asked.

"How do dragons fly?" Bart's curiosity was insatiable.

He should insist that she let the boy go to sleep now, it was rather late after all, but he wanted to hear what answer she would give him. Sarah had an amazing imagination and some of the things she conjured up to explain the unexplainable to Bart would make the likes of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg green with envy.

"Well, you must understand that the information I have is only theoretical." She informed the boy in a voice of expert authority that even Carlisle would believe. "I've never actually flown myself.

"First off, like birds, a dragon's bones are hollow to reduce our overall weight. Birds and reptiles are related you know . . . it's a scientific fact.

"Now as far as I've been told, the real secret has to do with expansion of our flight bladder . . . we use it for buoyancy in the air just like a fish uses its swim bladder for buoyancy in the water. For the purpose of flight, dragons consume limestone which combines with the strong acid in our stomachs to produce Hydrogen gas . . . which then fills the flight bladder and gives us lift."

"You mean like those shiny balloons at birthday parties?"

"Well, it's Helium that you find in party balloons, but the principal is the same," she cooed. "If we had to depend on our wings alone, we could never get our enormous bulk airborne."

Carlisle found himself chuckling, the explanation was quite ingenious and he wondered how she came up with it. Then he remembered some of their past conversations. Alien vampires came to mind first, followed in quick succession by her theory about vampires not being dead, but alive. He suspected Sarah had an intellect that surpassed the greatest minds of all time.

"Alright Sarah, that's enough," he called softly, knowing she would hear him. "Say good night to Bart and let him go to bed."

"Grandpa says good night," he heard her whisper to Bart, and then he heard her kiss him, and the rustling of blankets as she tucked him in. "We'll continue our story tomorrow night . . . like Shahrazad and the _Thousand and One Nights_."

"Shahra . . . who?" Bart asked sleepily.

"You've never heard of Shahrazad?!" his daughter exclaimed. "She was only the greatest story teller in the whole history of storytelling. It all started when she married this mean old Sultan named Shaharyar and he was going to have his Grand Vizier chop her head off at dawn, but she . . ."

Carlisle could hear yet another unborn story in his daughter's voice. Thought he hated to do it, he had to end the night's entertainment for Bart's sake.

"Sarah," he called again as a gentle reminder. Unfortunately it was the nature of newborns in general and Sarah in particular, to be easily distracted.

"Oh, right," she sighed. "Goodnight Bart . . . pleasant dreams."

* * * *

Sarah and Bart were in the back yard with her siblings. Nessie, Jacob, Seth and Billy had come over and the family was having a sort of weekend get together. The gathering was arranged partly to welcome Bart into the family and partly as a celebration of Nessie's pregnancy. According to her mother, Papa would be caring for both their granddaughter and the new baby. Sarah was looking forward to the new arrival just as much as everyone else.

Their guests had been forewarned about Bart. They knew that he was still human in spite of Sarah's having bitten him and that he believed the Cullen family was a colony of transfigured dragons instead of a coven of vampires. Billy Black had showed some initial concern about this arrangement over the phone; Sarah managed to eavesdrop on her father's conversation with him. After meeting Bart face to face however, Billy seemed just as enchanted by the boy as everyone else.

The only person missing from the gathering was Ben. He still hadn't called her nor was he answering her calls. She had become so frustrated by the whole situation that three days ago she stopped trying to contact him altogether.

"_Une rose ne chasse jamais l'abeille." _She could hear her grand-mere's voice in the back of her mind. The phrase, in English, was _A rose never chases the honey bee_, and she wasn't about to degrade herself by chasing after Ben. Her feelings for him were more than evident and if he felt the same way, he knew where to find her.

Still, thinking about him made her hurt inside and she felt her broad smile fall into a glum frown. Everyone must have noticed this because suddenly Jasper and Emmett were beside her.

"Hey Sis," Emmett began in his usual overly enthusiastic way, "how about letting The Bart Man throw the old pig skin around with his uncles?"

The Bart Man, she hated that nickname, the sound of it made her shudder. It conjured images of a little yellow skinned boy with spiky hair that went around telling everyone to eat his shorts. She pushed the image from her mind before it could sicken her further.

"I don't think that would be such a hot idea, Em," Sarah reasoned. "I mean after all, Bart isn't as _durable_ as you guys are."

"Come on Sarah," Jasper encouraged. She felt a sudden sence of peace wash over her and realized that Jazz was using his gift on her. "Do you honestly think we would let harm come to him . . . he's our nephew for crying out loud."

Sarah found herself smiling in spite of her worries about Ben and her concerns over letting Bart play football with her much stronger brothers.

"Let him play, honey." Sarah hadn't heard her father come out of the house. She thought he was still inside with Mama and Nessie. "I think you might find he's more resilient than you imagine."

With a reluctant nod she gave her consent. Her father was a doctor after all, if something happened he could handle it. There was nothing more fortuitous than having a major traffic accident right outside the hospital doors.

"Aren't we morbid today?" Edward goaded her, then he addressed Bart. "Come on, you can be on my team . . . we always win."

"You always cheat!" Emmett shouted back. It sounded like he was near the stream.

Sarah sighed; it was going to be a long afternoon for her frayed nerves.

* * * *

Carlisle sat next to Sarah and prepared to watch the game of touch football. Touch was the optimum word; if Bart had not been playing . . . it would have been a Cullen free for all. Esme and Bella agreed to referee leaving three players on each team. The doctor much preferred baseball; in his opinion, it was a more gentlemanly sport.

The family's psychics were split. Edward captained his own team with Bart and Rose on his side while Alice and Japer played for Emmett's team. This ensured no one had an unfair psychic advantage. One would think it odd that Rose would play against her mate, but it worked out just fine. If Bart hadn't been playing, he would have joined in to even things up.

"Remember, who loves ya, baby?" Emmett taunted in his best imitation of Telly Savalas from _Kojak_. Then he threw Rose a very theatrical kiss from the other end of the field.

"Oh, please!" Rose groaned and rolled her eyes.

A part of him felt guilty for encouraging the friendly contest, but the scientific side of him couldn't resist. He had hundreds of unanswered questions about Bart . . . _post bite_. Carlisle managed to get Sarah to allow him to run a few simple lab tests on the boy, small things that didn't seem to upset her. His daughter was more protective of her new son than a mother grizzly bear with twin cubs. Although he still appeared to be a normal human boy, the DNA analysis he'd done left him stunned. His profile looked more like Nessie's, both human and vampire. Bart's was even more unique however, as he wasn't half and half like his granddaughter. Instead, he was a human with vampire characteristics.

Bart's eyesight was considerably more acute than before and his hearing, while not as keen as that of a vampire, was off the chart as far as humans went. He was physically much stronger too and he possessed the ability to spontaneously regenerate damaged tissue, thus vastly accelerating his healing rate.

Now as Carlisle watched the boy run down field carrying the football tucked under his arm, he realized that Bart was faster than a normal human too. He focused his ears and listened to the sound of Bart's heart. The rhythm was elevated but no more than usual for a boy running. He smiled as his grandson scored a touchdown.

"Wow, you're fast Bart Man," Emmett encouraged as he tousled the boy's ebony hair. "I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

"Stop harassing my running back," Edward grinned wickedly then he turned to Esme. "Isn't that considered a personal foul?"

His wife didn't answer but gave Edward _the look _instead. Carlisle was pleased to see that Esme's stern glare affected others just as it did him. His son only sighed as he went in to huddle with his team.

An hour later the score was tied fourteen to fourteen. Edward's team had the ball when something went wrong on the play. Before Edward could pitch the ball to Rose for the hand off to Bart, Emmett rushed him. The blur of movement made no sense to even Carlisle's eyes, it only really registered when he saw Edward airborne and falling towards a helpless Bart. The boy would be crushed.

He was off the bench and across the field in an instant ready to snatch Bart out of harm's way. To his surprise when he passed through the gap between his falling son and the spot where Bart stood, the boy was no longer there. He stopped, felt the breeze against his back as Edward fell past him, heard the loud thud as he hit the ground, but the doctor's arms that should have been full of his grandson were empty.

"Bart!" Carlisle called. He was startled by his own panic.

"Over here, grandpa."

He turned to look down field; Bart was standing under the elm tree that grew near the bank of the stream. The boy was smiling and he looked both pleased and confused at the same time.

Touch down?" he asked shyly as he held up the football.

Carlisle's brain was franticly trying to process what just happened. Yes with his enhanced speed Bart was fast, but not that fast. Something else had occurred, something that the doctor was missing. He made his way casually toward the boy.

"Are you alright Bart?" he asked as he knelt beside him.

"Sure grandpa, I'm fine." He was all in one piece, but the boy's voice further betrayed his confusion.

"That was amazing, how did you get over here so quickly?"

"Well . . . um . . . I don't know exactly," Bart admitted, dropping his gaze to his feet as if he'd done something wrong.

With one hand Carlisle gently tipped the boy's chin so that he could look into Bart's cinnamon eyes. "It's alright young one; you're not in any trouble. I'm just curious, that's all."

Before the boy could answer, Sarah showed up beside them, Alice at her elbow guiding her. "Bart, are you ok?" Her searching hands found her son's shoulders and she pulled him in tightly against her.

"Yes, Mama," Bart answered. He seemed just slightly irritated by his mother's attention. Carlisle made a mental note to discuss the subject of hovering with his daughter.

"You were saying, Bart." It was his way of gently refocusing the conversation.

"Oh, well . . . um . . . I looked up and saw Uncle Edward falling. I didn't know what to do. I knew he was going to land on me, so I closed my eyes and waited. And then . . ." The boy paused and his eyes went wide with realization. "Oh no, it couldn't be . . . could it?"

"I don't know," He answered his grandson honestly. "What happened next?"

"I . . . I _wished_ I was somewhere else. The trees by the stream flashed in my head and when I opened my eyes, I was here."

Teleportation, the word danced in Carlisle's mind, how fascinating.

"Awesome gift little dude," Emmett laughed from somewhere behind him. "Next time you're so totally playing on my team. All I have to do is hand you the ball and you can wish yourself right into the end zone. Talk about unstoppable!"

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote: **Sarah's theory on dragon flight as well as the opening quote comes courtesy of the 1982 animated movie _The Flight of Dragons_, produced by Jules Bass and Arthur Rankin, Jr. It was based on a book of the same title written by Peter Dickenson as well as the novel _The Dragon and the George_ by the late Gordon R. Dickson. I loved this movie as a child and hadn't seen it in years until I happened across it on You Tube. It's very old school and very D&D, check it out!!


	32. Chapter 32

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight

Chapter 31

**Elementary My Dear Dawson!**

**Basil: **Ha ha! We've done it old fellow! This reaction could only have been triggered by the paper's extreme saturation with distillation of Sodium Chloride. (Basil scurries off, leaving Dr. Dawson to ponder the experiment's results.)

**Dr. Dawson: **Salt water? Great Scott!

**Basil: **(Rummaging through his collection of maps.) It proves beyond a doubt this list came from the river front area.

**Dr. Dawson: **Oh now steady on there Basil.

**Basil: **No, no, Elementary my dear Dawson. We merely look for a seedy pub at the only spot where the sewer connects to the water front.

_**The Great Mouse Detective**_

_Walt Disney Pictures_

_1986_

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Carlisle sat at the desk in his study working on several charts he'd brought home. The study door stood ajar for Bart's sake. His grandson was in the living room playing video games and he was supposed to be babysitting. Esme and the girls were gone to Port Angeles for the weekend, a shopping spree meant to haul Sarah out of her emotional doldrums. The boys took the opportunity to go camping . . . well, hunting for the weekend.

He enjoyed being home alone with Bart. Saturday had been fairly quiet; they spent part of the day playing a game the doctor invented to test the lad's abilities. He had the boy teleport from one part of the house to another. Gradually he asked Bart to transport himself further and further away from his point of origin. They stopped after Bart teleported himself out into Esme's rose garden and complained of a headache afterwards. He had to admit, he pushed the boy a bit, but with time and practice he suspected Bart could do great things with his gift.

"Grandpa."

Carlisle looked up from his work and smiled. He was only a little surprised to find Bart standing in the doorway. He hadn't heard the boy coming up the stairs so he must have used his gift.

"You know, Bart, you really should use the stairs." It wasn't that the doctor frowned on the boy's gifts, but that he didn't want him spoiled.

"But it's fun Grandpa."

"I'm sure it is," He continued, "and while it's fine to experiment with your gift around the house . . . you can't use it all willy-nilly when you're among people."

"You mean like at school?"

"Exactly." He got up and walked to where his grandson was standing. "Now what can Grandpa do for you?"

"I'm hungry."

Carlisle looked down at his watch and grinned. "Well its twelve thirty, lunch time, I guess you would be hungry." He wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders and led him back toward the stairs.

"What would you like?" he asked as they entered the kitchen. Yesterday Bart had chicken noodle soup and a ham sandwich for lunch and the doctor had ordered pizza for super. "Go easy on Gramps, now, I'm not a whiz in the kitchen like your Grandma."

"How about . . . peanut butter and jelly?"

"Hmm, an excellent choice. Are you a strawberry, blackberry, or apple jelly man?" Esme loved making homemade jelly and all three varieties could be found in the pantry.

"Um, I really like grape."

He'd have to tell Esme that. "Then might I suggest that the young master try the blackberry. A have it on very good authority that it's quite exceptional." He allowed his long buried English accent to come out as he spoke and he gestured with a theatrical flourish at the end.

Bart giggled. "Ok."

After settling his grandson on a stool at the counter, he went about gathering what he would need to fix the boy's sandwich. Bread from the bread box, the jelly and peanut butter from the pantry, and to round out a healthy human lunch some mozzarella cubes and grapes from the fridge. Carlisle laid out the bread on a plate and reached for the spoon only to realize he'd left it by the sink. A notion occurred to him then for yet another experiment.

"Bart, would you mind helping me with something?"

The lad nodded eagerly.

"It seems I've left the spoon by the sink, do you think you could use your gift and fetch it over here?"

It was an impromptu test, to see if Bart could teleport objects as well as he teleported himself. Carlisle watched him as he focused on the spoon by the sink, fixing it in his mind. Then the boy closed his eyes and squinted his face in deep concentration. Instantly the spoon vanished from the counter by the sink and reappeared before him next to the loaf of bread. Bart opened his eyes and smiled broadly.

"Thank you Bart, that was very helpful."

"Sure thing Grandpa," he piped up. "Do you want me to get the milk from the fridge too?"

"Oh no that's not necessary, but thank you anyway. I think I can manage now."

* * * *

After lunch Carlisle and Bart retired to the living room. The doctor spent some time teaching Bart to play chess. The lad was a fast study and soon had his grandpa on the ropes. It seemed that he had inherited enhanced vampire intellect as well. Carlisle made a mental note to test the boy's intelligence. Depending on the results and how well Bart came to understand the need to keep his talents under wraps, he might possibly have to suggest home schooling his grandson until the boy was older.

When Bart became bored with handing grandpa his head at chess, they broke into the family's archive of DVDs. It took some digging to find movies that Carlisle deemed appropriate for a ten year old. Thankfully, Esme was a fan of all things Disney and she had an extensive collection. Bart settled on _The Great_ _Mouse Detective_ and after popping it in the DVD player the doctor joined his grandson on the sofa.

Basil had just freed himself, Dr. Dawson, and little Olivia Flavisham from Professor Rattigan's diabolical trap and they were on their way to rescue the Queen when Carlisle noticed Bart trembling. At first he thought it was the movie, perhaps the action was too intense for him, but then he noticed goose bumps covering Bart's skin and the slight green cast to his complexion.

"Bart, what's wrong?"

"I feel bad, Grandpa," the boy squeaked.

"You feel like lightning is dancing on your skin, you're sick to your stomach, you have a slight headache, the back of your head feels all tingly, and you're a little dizzy?"

"Wow, Grandpa, you really are the world's greatest doctor! How did you know?"

"A lucky guess," he dismissed. It seemed Bart had inherited Sarah's built in radar.

Before he could explain further, a knock came at the door. Carlisle got up and took a half step away from the sofa only to find Bart clinging to his hand. He looked down at his grandson; the boy's face was a mask of fear.

"Don't answer it, Grandpa," Bart pleaded. It nearly broke the doctor's silent heart.

"Now, now my boy," he patted the top of Bart's head with his free hand, "there's no cause for alarm. It's probably just some door-to-door salesman peddling his encyclopedias, vacuum cleaners, insurance, or some other bit of useless nonsense . . . it happens all the time. Nothing your old Grandpa can't handle. I'll take care of it, you enjoy your movie."

The look on Bart's face as he released Carlisle's hand told him the boy wasn't entirely convinced. With a sigh and a healthy dose of wariness he made his way to the front door. A deep breath told him the identity of the caller even before he opened the door. He paused long enough to put on the appropriate expression and then opened the door to greet his guest.

"Good afternoon, Carlisle." Ben's voice was pleasant but held a hint of uneasiness.

"Benjamin," He replied formally. "What a surprise."

"I had business in Seattle so I decided to pay a brief visit. Is Sarah around?" Ben craned to look past Carlisle's shoulders. "I'd like to speak with her."

"No, she went with her mother and sisters to Port Angeles for the weekend."

"Oh, I see," Ben sounded extremely disappointed. "I don't suppose you would be so kind as to tell her I dropped by?"

"I told you I wouldn't."

"Is she well?" The voice of his friend showed real concern. "She hasn't tried to call me in over a week . . . it's starting to worry me."

"Is it?" Carlisle grumped. "Now you know how she feels when you ignore _her _calls."

There was a long pause before Ben turned to leave. "Well I suppose I'd best be going. It was a mistake for me to come here in the first place."

The doctor watched his best friend cross the expanse of the front yard toward his waiting Jaguar. This was the best opportunity he would likely get to resolve things between Ben and Sarah and he couldn't let it slip through his fingers. _How_, he asked himself as a thousand thoughts swam through his mind at once, how to make Ben see the truth?

"_And a little child shall lead them." _His father's voice echoed through the vastness of his mind. Of course, he mused, introduce him to Bart and let the boy's contagious personality do the rest. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

"Wait, Ben," Carlisle called after him. "Sarah should be returning home soon." He knew Alice well enough, once she saw Ben visiting in her vision, she would have Sarah in the car and on the way home in an instant. "Why don't you come in and wait for her . . . I'm sure she would be thrilled if you did."

He watched anxiety play across Ben's face as he fidgeted with the keys to his car. Indecision was an emotion he had never known in Ben before. The Benjamin Wiseman he knew was self confidant and always very decisive.

Well of course Ben was apprehensive, he scoffed mentally, marriage and fatherhood were frightening prospects. Carlisle knew that fact all too well. Finding a life mate changed everything for a man . . . for all time, but adding children into the equation made for a glorious sort of bedlam that was both terrifying and wonderful at the same time.

This was truly the doctor's golden moment. If only he could get his friend into the house . . . introduce him to Bart . . . and then sit back and watch as the boy magically did the rest.

"Please, Benjamin, for old time's sake, come inside and wait for Sarah." He suggested in the most soothing tone he could muster.

* * * *

The doctor entered the living room first, leaving Ben to wait in the foyer. Thankfully Benjamin had the good sense to hunt before making the trip from Seattle. Carlisle wasn't particularly fond of his friend's dietary habits, but having recently fed would make being around Bart much easier for him. He warned Ben that Bart had inherited Sarah's radar and would likely be afraid of him at first. They agreed a slow introduction would be best . . . for both of them.

"Bart," He called warmly as he rounded the corner and came into the living room. The sight of his grandson made him shudder, the boy's green cast hadn't faded any and he look like a frightened rabbit staring down a pack of snarling hounds.

"Bart, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

The boy shook his head vehemently, fear darkened his cinnamon eyes turning them a deep muddy brown. Carlisle crossed the room slowly and settled on the sofa next to the lad. It didn't surprise him at all that the boy instantly snuggled against his side, just like his mother always did when she sought his comfort. It wasn't denied; he wrapped his arm around his grandson and kissed the top of his head.

"You needn't fear," he whispered into the boy's ebony hair. "Ben is an old and dear friend, he won't hurt you."

"Is he a dragon too?" Bart's voice trembled as he asked.

"Yes, I am," Ben answered.

Carlisle looked up; Benjamin was standing in the archway that separated the living room from the entry hall. He watched his friend take several steps into the room before stopping. He stood perfectly still, watching Bart's reaction to his presence.

Humans, as a general rule, were naturally uncomfortable in the presence of vampires. It was a subconscious reaction to their predatory nature, the same way a Thompson's gazelle would be uncomfortable around a lion. Bart was no exception; he trembled as he stared wide-eyed at Ben.

"Perhaps waiting for Sarah isn't such a good idea," Ben sighed. "I'm obviously causing the boy a great deal of distress."

As his friend turned to leave, Bart uncurled from Carlisle's side and got off the couch. He then dashed across the room and caught Ben by the coat sleeve. Instantly his old friend stopped, looked down at the boy, and smiled. Bart held on to Benjamin's arm and gently pulled him back toward the center of the room. Ben willingly followed.

"Are you the Mr. Ben my Mom's always talking about?"

Benjamin took a seat in the arm chair. "It's just Ben, and yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think she really likes you." Then the boy's face contorted into what the doctor recognized as Bart's questioning grimace. "Only, she looks real sad when she talks about you . . . like her pet hamster just died. Why is that, Mr. Ben?"

Carlisle wanted to laugh but he managed to hold it in and keep a straight face. The way Bart kept calling his old friend _Mr. Ben_ was precious beyond words. Benjamin glanced his way; the man's dumbfounded expression was priceless.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to think Sarah . . . I mean, your mother, likes me," his friend stammered, "because . . . well, that is, because . . . I rather like her too_, a lot."_

"But why does that make her sad, Mr. Ben?"

Carlisle suspected that the innocence in the boy's voice could melt ever Aro's stony heart. Poor Ben didn't stand a chance.

"Because, Bart . . . um, well because, _'Mr. Ben'_ doesn't have the good sense that God gave to a lowly Billy goat. I've been acting like a fool, and my foolish behavior is making your mother sad."

Bart stared blankly at Benjamin, making the man obviously uncomfortable. In response to this, Ben continued to try and explain _complicated_ to the ten year old boy.

"You see, I owe your mother an apology for my behavior and I've come to offer it to her. Hopefully she will accept my apology and we can continue _liking_ each other as we did before I was . . . um, foolish." He paused and looked intently into Bart's eyes, as if searching for some sign that the boy understood. "What do you think, my boy, will your mother accept my apology?"

"No offence, Mr. Ben," Bart shrugged, "but I think you talk funny. Want'a play chess? Grandpa taught me how." Then he pushed the coffee table towards Ben and smiled at him.

Carlisle couldn't help his smug grin as he watched Bart setting up the chess board. Benjamin cast the doctor a pleading look just before the boy asked if Ben wanted to be black or white.

"White goes first," Bart informed Ben when he failed to answer in a timely manner, "so, I'll let you be white since I'm probably going to beat you anyway."

"Is that so?" Ben chuckled. "Well, young Master Bartholomew, I'll have you know that dragons practically invented this game. In fact, I've played against some of the greatest chess masters in history . . . and won!"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Ben, I'm still gonna beat you." Bart dismissed. "But it's ok. Since I like you and my mom likes you, I won't beat you too badly."

"That's truly magnanimous of you Bartholomew, thank you so very much," Ben quipped.

Forty five minutes later, Bart had Benjamin in checkmate.


	33. Chapter 33

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight.

Thanks to my awsome Beta who did a 24 hr turn around on this chapter, you all get it tonight!

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 32

**Lavender's Blue**

Their departure from Port Angeles was hasty. One minute, Sarah and Esme were in the process of select a bassinet for Nessie's baby shower and the next minute Alice, Rose, and Bella were forcefully dragging them toward the parking lot. Once in her father's Mercedes with Alice behind the wheel, the carload of Cullen women blasted out of town like a gang of bank robbers on the run from the police.

Every time she asked why they were in such a hurry Sarah got the same answer, "It's a surprise."

Esme had no better luck.

Now, as they pulled off the main highway and onto the winding drive that led to their house, the sensation hit her. It started as a tingling at the base of her skull, then she felt electricity dance across her skin as every hair on her body stood to attention. As they got closer to the house, dizziness and a slight rolling in her stomach set in. She knew all too well what those symptoms meant . . . there was an outside vampire in the immediate vicinity. Suddenly she was very worried about Bart.

The car pulled to a stop but, before anyone could get out and before she could open her own door, the door was opened for her. His scent immediately told her who was playing the gentleman; it was as always, Papa.

Her father opened the door for Mama and then helped Sarah from the car. As she stepped into the damp night air the sensation of her radar intensified. The outside vampire was very close . . . too close for Sarah's comfort. At this range her father should have been able to detect the presence himself, yet he seemed unconcerned.

"Papa," she paused as in involuntary shudder rocked her body. "Red Dragon."

To her astonishment her father chuckled. Was it her continued use of her code word? He'd never found it amusing before.

"Papa," she insisted.

"I know sweetheart," he assured her. "You have a gentleman caller."

Sarah found some of her father's dated phrases very interesting. The last place she'd heard that one used was at a production of _The Glass Menagerie_. Curious she took a deliberate deep breath and smiled when the scent of Gardenias filled her nose. She couldn't keep the broad grin off her face.

"Ben," she whispered.

"I told you it was a surprise," Alice chirped happily.

Her smile quickly faded as she remembered the three weeks' worth of silent treatment Ben had put her through. He was here now, but that couldn't be a good thing.

"What does he want Papa . . . has he come to tell me he hates me and never wants to see me again?"

Before her father could answer, she heard the sound of footsteps coming from the direction of the front porch and the melodic strains of the saxophone. "Is that what Milady truly thinks . . . that I hate you?"

"What else would you have me think . . . _Milord_ . . . as you have made it very plain that you no longer wish anything to do with Me," she growled back at him.

The tension between them was palpable; it was so thick Sarah could taste it on her tongue.

"Perhaps the rest of us should go inside," her father suggested calmly, "and leave the two of you to work through your . . . misunderstanding." Then he pressed a tender kiss against Sarah's forehead and whispered, "If you need me, call me."

Her mother hugged her fiercely and whispered encouraging words in her ear before joining her father.

Then her sisters came one by one.

"It's going to be ok," Bella soothed as she embraced Sarah. "Edward and I disagree sometimes, it's only natural, but it always works out."

"My vision is still the same," Alice assured her. "Believe me, no one in their right mind would ever think to bet against me . . . at least not if they don't want to lose."

Then it was Rosalie's turn. Her fiery sister hugged her just like the rest, but it was Ben she spoke to. "I forgive you _this time_, but if you ever hurt my sister again . . . I'll hunt you down, rip you to pieces, and burn every scrap of your sorry carcass. Understand?!"

"Indubitably," she heard Ben reply, a sad note of resignation tinted his voice. Moments later they were completely alone.

"Would you walk with me, Milady?" Ben asked formally. The breeze stirred and his image, elbow extended to her in invitation, flared before her black velvet world.

She accepted his arm and allowed herself to be led. To her surprise he didn't lead her back towards the house and her favorite rocker; instead they veered off toward the back yard. Soon Sarah found herself being settled on the same swing where Ben first professed his love for her. She wondered if their courtship would end exactly where it began.

"_Aren't we morbid today?"_ Edward's playfully scolding words danced through her mind. With effort she managed to push her depressive thoughts aside.

"It's such a beautiful night; the moon is full, the sky is clear, and the stars dance like diamonds cast against the midnight sea." Sarah couldn't help but shudder, Benjamin had a magical way with words.

She inhaled deeply and found the scent of Gardenias overpowered briefly by that of Honeysuckle and Night Blooming Jasmine. Both flowers grew in her mother's extensive garden. The three fragrances combined on the humid night air, creating a heady perfume that Sarah found enchanting.

"Yes," she finally agreed, "it is a beautiful night. When did you get here?"

"A few hours ago," he sighed. "But fear not, your father was an exquisite host in your absence."

An uncomfortable silence followed until Sarah couldn't stand it anymore.

"So, did you meet him . . . what did you think?" She couldn't help the way her question tripped over itself as it fell from her mouth.

Benjamin laughed, filling the night with the most glorious music. She never wanted him to stop.

"If by _him_ you mean Bartholomew, yes I did," he answered when his laughing stopped. "And I think he's a fine lad . . . the kind of boy I would have taken to be my squire, long and many centuries ago."

"Then, you like him?" She couldn't hide her pleasure at her mate's praise for Bart.

"Of course I like him," he answered, a smile rang through his saxophone voice. "He's smart, honest, and he has courage. He also cares very deeply for you . . . he thoroughly raked me over the coals about why you get so sad every time someone speaks my name.

"Which reminds me . . . you don't honestly believe I hate you, _do you_?"

Her heart sank and her melancholy mood returned. "You abandoned me, what else would you have me think?"

She felt him shift next to her then he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. Though she couldn't see his expression, she could feel his conviction when he spoke.

"Little love, I do not now . . . nor have I ever hated you. You are the light of my heart and the joy of my existence. You are, and forever shall be, my absolute world."

"Then why did you abandon me?" Sarah believed his words, but she was also emotionally raw and wanted answers. "Three weeks, Benjamin, three whole weeks with no word at all from you. That's a strange way to show the_ light of your heart and the_ _joy of your existence_ how much you love her."

"Ouch," Ben muttered. "Milady's tongue is a keen blade that cuts to the quick."

"Milord's callous actions cut deeper still, flaying past the flesh and bone to the very soul of me," she retorted harshly, a low growl accompanying the statement.

"I deserved that." Ben sighed. "I hurt you . . . very much and I owe you a most sincere apology. I'm sorry, Sarah, for all the pain that my absence and neglect have caused you."

He _was _sorry, she believed that, but she decided to disregard his apology for the moment. Her vexation had yet to be satisfied. "Why did you ignore my calls . . . I want answers, Ben, why did you abandon me?"

Benjamin didn't answer right away but she heard him take several deep breaths and run his fingers through his hair a couple of times. She could tell he was having a hard time; perhaps he wasn't used to being grilled about his motives.

"I didn't abandon you little love," he finally managed. "I know it must seem that way to you, but you are my life mate and I could never do that."

"Alright, I'll play along," Sarah agreed sarcastically. "So you didn't abandon me . . . you just chose to pretend I didn't exist for a little while or maybe you got a bad case of vampire amnesia when you saw my number on your caller ID." She was on a Rose-inspired roll now. "I don't give a rat's ass how you justify it to yourself . . . I just want to know _why?_"

"Milady, such language!"

She ignored his scolding tone and twisted her expression into what she hoped was an impatient glare. Ben retreated into another long uncomfortable pause.

"It's rather simple really." The saxophone played a sad monotone harmony when he finally chose to speak again. "You'll forgive my frankness . . . it is, after all, what you wanted.

"I left Alice's villa in a rage because I thought your indulgent mother and impetuous sister had allowed you to create an immortal child. The penalty for such a transgression is death. I was both angry and heartbroken at the prospect of losing you, but I was prepared to return to the Volturi palace and hold you tightly in my arms as the flames consumed us both. I would not have wanted to live without you, my Little Love.

"When I realized that Bart really would remain human I stayed away for a much simpler reason . . . fear. The boy is human, Sarah, and I, unlike you and your family, am not a _vegetarian_."

Sarah could tell Ben was uncomfortable; it seemed he was a man who was unaccustomed to talking about his deeper feelings. As he paused to collect himself, she suddenly felt guilty for putting him in such an emotionally awkward position.

"You are his mother and you love him," Ben continued. "You _deserve_ to love him. A child is the one thing I can never give you, the one thing we can never have together. I was willing to stay away so that you could have an opportunity at motherhood through Bart.

"If I had come back and inadvertently killed the boy because, for whatever reason, I lost control . . . I don't think I could have lived with myself. Even now, I can imagine the awful look of hurt that would forever cloud the beautiful depths of your hazel eyes. It would haunt me for all time."

She knew he was sincere, real pain resonated through the notes of the saxophone. He honestly didn't want to harm either her or Bart and being absent from her life was the sacrifice he was willing to make to ensure their safety.

"But Alice doesn't see you hurting him." Her sister had told her this often enough and, if her visions had changed, Sarah was sure Alice would have shared that fact.

"I'm sorry love, but you and your family put more stock in Alice's visions than I do." He sighed. "Still, it has become apparent to me over these past few weeks that neither of us could stand to endure the dozen or so years of separation it would require for Bart to grow up in complete safety. This situation possesses a deep dilemma for me because in my current state, I am a serious threat to his health and well being.

"So, after spending some time this afternoon in council with your father, I've decided to . . ."

Sarah felt her chest tighten with dread, he was going to leave her again, she was sure of it. Her anger swelled once more, drowning out the buds of tenderness that had dared to surface moments before.

"If you think, for one minute, you're going to walk out on me again Benjamin Wiseman, you have another thing coming." Sarah cut him off with a growl. She stood to her feet and turned her back to him, she didn't want him to see the anguished look on her face.

"I won't tolerate it!" The pitch of Sarah's voice increased exponentially along with the level of her agitation. She was practically shouting. "You have absolutely no right to torture me that way . . . If you abandon me again . . . well, just don't bother to ever come back!"

When the echo of her last words died away there was silence, only the chirping of the crickets and the gentle babble of the stream broke the stillness. A few moments passed before Sarah heard Ben let out a long sigh before getting up. Strong yet gentle hands came to rest on her shoulders, giving then a brief reassuring squeeze.

"I don't blame you for your mistrust. In fact I've given you every reason not to trust me, but please, my love, just hear me out." his voice was low and soothing. "And for pity's sake, please sit down before Rosalie interprets your current posture as a reason to follow through on her threat. While it's a lovely night for a bonfire, Milady, I'm not very partial to being the guest of honor."

Sarah giggled in spite of not wanting to and allowed him to seat her on the swing again.

"Now as I was saying before you interrupted me," he paused but Sarah remained quiet, "I had a very long and fruitful talk with Carlisle this afternoon. I have decided, for Bart's sake and safety as well as for your comfort, to attempt a lifestyle change. Now that's going to mean . . ."

"You're going to become a vegetarian!" Sarah threw her arms around Benjamin and hugged him fiercely. "Oh, Ben, I'm so happy! This is fantastic, I can't wait to . . ."

"Light of Heaven woman, would you stop interrupting me!" Though he didn't sound angry as he wrapped his arms around her, returning her embrace, exasperation still echoed through the notes of the saxophone.

"Oops, I'm sorry," she whispered into the folds of his shirt. The comforting smell of Gardenias was so intense it was intoxicating and Sarah found herself absently nuzzling his chest.

"Indeed," Ben sighed as he reluctantly released her from his arms. "Now, do you think you can control yourself long enough for me to finish?"

Sarah nodded. She was practically squirming with excitement, but she wanted to hear what Ben had to say. She was surprised when she heard him chuckle. A pout suddenly came to her face and his chuckle turned into an honest laugh.

"Bless me, but I'd forgotten just how excitable a newborn could be," he managed when his mirth subsided. "Anyway, a lifestyle change. Yes, I'll be joining the ranks of the golden-eyed vegans. But in order to do this safely, without risking Bart or any other human, I'm going to have to return to the Adirondacks and seclude myself for a while."

"But you just . . . we only just . . ." Sarah's mind wouldn't complete the thought.

"Now, now, settle down," Ben soothed. "I know what you're thinking, little love, and I promise you've got it all wrong. You're thinking you won't hear from me and that I'll ignore you again."

He gently captured Sarah's face between his strong hands. "I've learned my lesson, Sarah. Did I tell you how much it hurt me every time I looked at that caller ID, saw your name . . . but _didn't_ answer? Did I mention the fact that nearly every night I went online and contemplated booking a seat on the next available flight to Seattle? Did I tell you that I destroyed all the furniture in my house, three times, in fits of volcanic rage because I wanted to hear your enrapturing voice and see your angelic face?

"Being apart from you pushed me to the very brink of criminal insanity; I could have easily slaughtered hundreds with fiendish glee. You are the light to my darkness, my anchor, my salvation. Without you . . . without your love, I am nothing but a blood thirsty monster, an ugly abomination in the eyes of Almighty God.

"Trust me, beloved; though we may be on opposite sea coasts, our separation is only temporary. I will never _never_ again ignore you." He paused briefly and then added. "I swear it on the honor of my Knighthood and on the honor of The Order of St. John of Jerusalem." Then he pulled her face closer to his. "And I seal my most sacred pledge . . . with this."

Suddenly his lips were pressed against hers, demanding possession of her. Though it began with slow deliberateness, it quickly escalated as both their passions got the better of them. Sarah felt the liquid heat of her own desire spread through her body from head to toe. In response she wrapped her arms around Ben, pulled him closer, and kissed him back. She found she wanted and needed Ben just as much as he wanted and needed her.

By the time they finally released each other Sarah had once again forgotten how to breathe. Her lips still throbbed in the aftermath of Ben's urgent presence and she fervently hoped the sensation would never end. A knowing smile curled the corners of her mouth.

"I think we should go inside now, Milady," Ben suggested in a husky tone. "Before I forget my vows of chivalry . . . and before I forget the fact that I wish to honor the sanctity of your virtue."

* * * *

Carlisle left the confines of his study around noon; he didn't have to be at the hospital until five pm. On Friday he had traded shifts with another doctor who needed the time off on Monday evening to attend his son's little league game. It was just as well, the previous evening had been eventful and tense. Though things were quiet now, he felt the need to stick close to home and monitor the family's overall mood. He paid particular attention to Sarah.

She and Ben had spent much of the previous evening in the backyard talking. The family did their best to give the couple some measure of privacy, but with super keen hearing it was difficult. There had been a few brief moments of shouting by Sarah, forcing Emmett to physically restrain Rose. In the end, however, Sarah and Ben worked out their differences and their relationship was back on track. Inwardly, he patted himself on the back for a job well done. He found it immensely satisfying when one of his plans worked out.

As he descended the stairs he listened to the sound of his wife and daughters in the kitchen. As near as he could tell, they were giving Sarah another cooking lesson as they made lunch for Bart. His sons were in the back yard coaching their new nephew in the family's favorite pastime, baseball.

He entered the kitchen and couldn't help his smile at the sight of the Cullen women hard at work. He wasn't entirely sure what they were making, but Esme was clearly supervising. Rose and Bella were busily chopping vegetables while Alice stirred a steaming pot. It would have smelled wonderful, he was sure, if he was still human.

Not to be left out, his little Sarah was standing by the small kitchen table kneading a cantaloupe-sized ball of dough. Flour streaked her face and hair, and coated the front of her green t-shirt. Her potter's skills were evident as she was pressed into service making Esme's famous homemade bread. His wife had won numerous blue ribbons at the local county fair with that bread, but that was another life and another time.

Suddenly Sarah froze and Carlisle's silent heart plunged to the floor. He'd seen that look too many times in the past not to know what it meant.

"Sarah?" he whispered with concern.

He watched her as she concentrated on her hearing. Her range, they found through experimentation, was somewhere on the order of twenty miles, that was considerably greater than the average range for most vampires.

"Delivery truck on the highway." she murmured. Obviously the attention of her hearing was still focused on the truck. "He's looking for our driveway, he'll be here soon."

Carlisle turned his expectant gaze to Alice.

"What?" His future-sighted daughter shrugged as she continued to stir the steaming pot.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked. Alice could be cryptic at times, but she rarely kept things from him.

"Oh, you mean about the truck . . . right, it's nothing," she dismissed.

The back door opened and his three sons plus Bart filed inside. Edward had obviously overheard their thoughts but he managed to keep any sign of concern off his face.

"Is lunch ready yet?" Edward asked casually even as his gaze met Carlisle's. "The Bart Man here has worked up a real appetite."

"Not yet," Esme sighed. The doctor watched as his wife looked from face to face, her honey-gold eyes demanding answers. "Why don't you go get washed up, Bart. It's not healthy to come to table all dirty and sweaty."

The boy shrugged and trotted off towards his room and a shower. When the water was running upstairs their conversation continued.

"Alice," he looked intently at his daughter, "What are you hiding?"

"Look, would you just chill, Carlisle?" Alice dismissed again. "It's nothing . . . well actually it's something, but it's a good something."

The sound of air brakes in the front yard brought the conversation to a halt. Moments later there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Emmett offered, and then he headed for the foyer.

When he returned he was snickering and he had a vase of flowers in his hand.

"Sarah's idiot boyfriend sent her a bouquet of weeds via _FTD_. I could have gone to the meadow and picked better looking ones," Emmett complained. "And he could have given me the money he wasted on this."

"Those aren't weeds," Esme corrected as she flittered across the kitchen and took the vase from Emmett. "They're flowers; Lavender and Baby's Breath, and a single pink and white Rose. How interesting, this calls for interpretation."

His wife was quite the expert in the Victorian language of flowers. He smiled as he watched her ponder over the simple yet lovely bouquet.

"Now let me see," Esme began. "Lavender means consistency and Baby's Breath is happiness. A red rose would have meant passionate love and fleshly desire but a pink and white one means . . . _I love you now and forever_."

"How terribly romantic," Bella shot Edward a meaningful glance. "I wish _someone_ would send _me_ a coded message in flowers."

"I don't need wimpy flowers to get my message across," Edward replied sharply, "Coded or otherwise."

"Excuse me, but in case you haven't noticed," Rose interrupted, "there's a card. Maybe Sir Lame-a-lot has clarified his _message_ with some nice simple words."

Carlisle plucked the card from the bouquet and opened it. His smile instantly broadened. Multiple decades had passed since he had last read the poem that now stared back at him.

"What does it say, Papa?" Sarah wriggled with excitement. She reminded him of a small child on Christmas morning.

Carlisle cleared his throat and, in a strong voice, he began to read.

"_Lavender's Blue,_" he introduced and then he launched into the body of the poem.

_Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green,_

_When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen._

_Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?_

_'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so_

_Lavender's green, dilly, dilly, Lavender's blue,_

_If you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you._

_Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play;_

_We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way._

_I love to dance, dilly, dilly, I love to sing;_

_When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you'll be my king._

_Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so?_

_I told myself, dilly, dilly, I told me so._

This was followed by a verse Ben had obviously written himself:

_Lavender's green, dilly dilly, Lavender's blue,_

_You own my heart, dilly dilly, my love is true._

_I'll tell the moon, dilly dilly, I'll tell the sun,_

_I've found true love, dilly dilly, you are the one_.

_Fear not Little Love, I won't forget my pledge. Enjoy the flowers and I'll call you when I reach New York._

_Eternally Yours,_

_Benjamin_

By the time he finished reading the poem and the brief note, Sarah had a look of otherworldly bliss on her face. How easy it was to satisfy young love, he thought as he remembered those same first heady days he shared with Esme.

"I said it before and I'll say it again," Bella sighed, interrupting his reminiscing. "_How romantic_."

"You want romance?" Edward growled possessively. "Why don't you and I go hunting . . . I'll give you all the _romance_ you can handle."

Carlisle watched as Bella and Edward exchanged first a look, and then a knowing smile before heading out the back door together. Alice and Jasper and Emmett and Rose soon followed suit. Esme gave him a look of deep longing and he knew what she wanted, but it would have to wait. With a sigh he took up stirring the pot Alice left while his beautiful wife finished chopping vegetables.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** Lavender's Blue is a seventeenth century English folk song and nursery rhyme. There are upwards of thirty verses and several different versions.

In the late 1940's Burl Ives released a recording of an updated version _(not the poem version listed above)_ through Disney Studios for their feature movie _So Dear to My Heart_. Later the same song was recorded by other artists, most notably Sammy Turner who, in 1959, took the song to #14 on the R&B chart.

Recently the artist Marillion recorded a track titled _Lavender Blue _which uses some of the words from the older songs mixed with fresh lyrics.

See, Blueroan's stories are educational too!


	34. Chapter 34

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!

Chapter 33

**Dream Weaver**

**__________________________________________________________________________**

_**Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod**_

_**** By: Eugene Fields ****_

_Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe;  
Sailed off on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew.  
"Where are you going and what do you wish?" the old moon asked the three.  
"We've come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea.  
Nets of silver and gold have we," said Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod._

_The old moon laughed and sang a song as they rocked in the wooden shoe.  
And the wind that sped them all night long ruffled the waves of dew.  
Now the little stars are the herring fish that live in that beautiful sea;  
"Cast your nets wherever you wish never afraid are we!"  
So cried the stars to the fishermen three - Winkin', and Blinkin', and Nod._

_So all night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam.  
'Til down from the skies came the wooden shoe bringing the fisherman home.  
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed as if it could not be.  
Some folks say 'twas a dream they dreamed of sailing that misty sea.  
But I shall name you the fisherman three - Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod._

_Now Winkin' and Blinkin' are two little eyes and Nod is a little head.  
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee one's trundle bed.  
So close your eyes while mother sings of the wonderful sights that be.  
And you shall see those beautiful things as you sail on the misty sea,  
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod_.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Sarah sat at her work table; the nearly finished sculpture in front of her was destined for a charity auction. Papa had been approached by Chief Swan, in his capacity as vice-president of the Rotary Club, and enlisted to help organize a fund-raising event for the building of a rescue center for neglected and abused children. Her father tried to balance his position as a prominent doctor and pillar of the community with the safety and security of his family. He preferred his privacy, but when it came to children in need, he would do almost anything to help.

Papa in turn approached her with the idea of doing a sculpture piece to be auctioned off at the event. Her mother had already engaged the services of several well known artists from the community, but in her Papa's eyes none could hold a candle to his Kitten. She was his personal Bernini, and he extolled her talents to whoever would listen.

Arrangements were already in place with a reputable local foundry to cast her finished work in bronze. She really preferred sculpting animals, but since children was the theme of the charity event, she went with that. Her sculpture was of a group of kids giving their dog a bath. Compromise she thought to herself with a smile, she got an animal into the composition, the organization got children in it, and the adorable factor was through the roof.

While she worked on the sculpture her mother and was helping Bart with his home work. Shortly after their return from Italy, Bart celebrated his 11th birthday. When the new school year started in late August, her father helped her enroll him in the local middle school. Papa had his reservations about letting Bart go to regular school, but Esme insisted he needed the social interaction. With that, Bartholomew became the town's newest sixth grader.

"Can we please do something else, Grandma, this is boring," Sarah heard her son plead.

"Boring or not, it's an assignment and you have to finish it Bart." Her mother's voice was smooth and calming. "Once we're done with it, we'll do something fun."

"But Grandma, I've got this. I already know how to work these math problems," Bart protested. "The teacher showed us a couple of times on the overhead; I felt something in my head just sort of . . . _click_, and then I knew it. I can do the problems backwards and forwards. So please, can we do something else?"

"How about a music lesson?" Sarah heard the tinkling ivory keys of her brother's voice as he and Bella descended the stairs. Except for her mother and Bart, they were the only other people in the house.

"Edward, he has to finish his homework."

"It's ok Esme, he's going to finish," her brother insisted, "but a music lesson might help settle his restlessness. You know, the piano always helps me concentrate."

"Thanks, Uncle Edward, but Mrs. Davis wouldn't let me check out an instrument for the weekend. The school only has five cellos and the eighth graders needed to practice for a concert next week."

"No problem," Edward answered smoothly. Sarah wondered if anyone else heard the hint of a surprise ringing in his voice. "Wait there, I have something for you."

She listened as her brother disappeared down the basement stairs. Her father's lab was down there as well as some extra storage. Her curiosity was piqued, what could her brother possibly have in the basement? When Edward returned she could tell by the sound of his gait that he was carrying something.

"Wow! Is that what I think it is?" she heard Bart gasp.

"Well, I don't know, what do you think it is?"

"My very own cello, Uncle Edward . . . just for me?"

The symphony of sound that was her brother's laughed tickled her ears. "That's right; it's a gift from your Aunty Bella and me."

"Awesome!"

Sarah listened with great pride to the ensuing ruckus as Bart unzipped the cello case and examined his new instrument. As he drew the bow lightly across the strings to test the sound, she couldn't help her smile. The room soon filled with the deep warm resonance of Bart's new cello. It had a voice that was much purer than the ones he brought home from school.

Sarah's hands moved with newfound joy over the surface of the clay as she listened to Bart warming up with his scales. Suddenly Edward's phone rang and the house was plunged into graveyard silence. She bumped up the volume of her hearing and was surprised to find Jacob on the other end of the line.

"Is Carlisle home?" he demanded of Edward. The amount of panic in the young man's voice startled her.

"No Jacob, his shift at the hospital doesn't end for another thirty minutes, why, what's wrong?"

"Call him; tell him to ditch the end of his stupid shift. Tell him to high tail it home and . . ." Jacob's voice was cut off by the sound of a painful scream in the back ground.

"Was that Nessie?" Edward's voice was almost a growl. She'd never heard that much fear in brother's voice before.

"Yes, she's in labor. We're on our way to your place now."

* * * *

Carlisle looked at his watch as he finished the last of his notes in the patient's chart he was working on. Thirty more minutes and his shift would be over. Edward and Bella were going to keep an eye on Sarah and Bart while he and Esme took a much needed weekend vacation. They were going to spend the next two days together in a little mountain cabin he bought a few months back. His wife had made renovating their new hideaway her special project. He couldn't wait, it had been far too long since they had enjoyed any alone time together.

He smiled and looked at his watch again, T minus twenty seven minutes and counting. If he could just manage to look busy, perhaps the nurse wouldn't hand him another case. He put on his most convincing look of deep concentration as he focused his attention on the paperwork in front of him.

At T minus fifteen minutes and counting his phone rang. He grinned, his wife was getting impatient. _Don't worry my love I won't keep you waiting much_ _longer_, he thought as he took his phone from his pocket. As a matter of habit he glanced at the caller ID and was surprised. Edward's name appeared on the backlit screen.

"Hello Edward, what's up?" he answered pleasantly.

"You've got to hurry home; Jacob and Billy are on their way here with Nessie. She's in labor."

His weekend plans were instantly forgotten as his mind shifted automatically into doctor mode. "Let me grab a few things and I'll be on my way."

* * * *

Sarah listened helplessly to the firestorm of activity as Nessie, Jacob, and Billy arrived at the Cullen home. The expectant mother was ushered down to Papa's lab which had been set up over the past several weeks for this very event. Her father had prepared for every eventuality including emergency c-section.

Alice called shortly after Edward got off the phone with Papa. She and the others would stay away until after the birth. Although they had all recently hunted and had excellent control, they didn't want to take any chances with that much blood.

When asked what outcome she saw, Alice could give no clear answer. The presence of the Quileute around Nessie clouded her sister's ability to see the future.

"I know this is going to sound really nuts, but ask Bart," she heard her sister tell Edward over the phone. "Ask him about the girl who visits him in his dreams."

Sarah held her breath as her brother hung up the phone. Bart hadn't mentioned any dreams.

"Hey, Bart Man," her brother called the boy's name softly, "have you been dreaming about a girl recently?"

"Yes, Uncle Edward," he answered honestly. "She tells me lots of secrets when she visits."

"What kind of secrets?" Billy asked.

"Well, the first night she came, she said she was cousin Nessie's daughter," Bart told them shyly.

"And when was this?" By the sound of his voice the Quileute elder was obviously intrigued.

Bart was silent for a while. The only sound that disturbed the quiet was the occasional groan that filtered up from the basement. Jacob, Esme, and Bella were below with the mother-to-be, comforting her as they waited for Papa to arrive.

"Well," he began slowly, "do you remember the Sunday everyone was here for the football game, and you nearly fell on me?"

"Of course," Edward answered. "That was the day your gift surfaced. Go on."

"Well, later that afternoon Nessie said the baby was moving and I asked if I could touch her stomach and feel it. She smiled at me and said yes." Bart paused briefly before continuing. "When I put my hand on her belly the baby kicked and then I felt this tingling run up my arm and then it was all over me. It was like a whole nest of honey bees all buzzing at once. That night she came to me in a dream and told me she was cousin Nessie's daughter."

"Did she tell you her name Bart?" Billy asked in awe.

"Yes, she said her name is Abigail."

"What else has she told you?" Disbelief echoed in Edward's voice.

"When she comes to visit, we play a lot."Bart sounded a little more relaxed now. "The dreams are always on a playground. She likes to swing, but we play on the slide too, or the see-saw or we sometimes build sand castles in the sand box.

"She has a little gray wolf puppy that always comes with her. Mostly she tells me things about herself . . . her favorite color is turquoise."

"It's never happened this early before," Billy mumbled. Sarah could tell the elder was in shock. "She hasn't even been born yet, why is this happening now?"

"You're not suggesting that . . . Bart and Abigail . . . ." Her brother allowed the question to die unfinished.

"Imprinted," the elder whispered reverently. "She imprinted on Bart when he touched Nessie's stomach."

* * * *

Seven hours after he arrived and found his granddaughter in the throes of labor, Carlisle emerged from his basement lab a proud new great grandfather. There was a certain lightness in his steps as he ascended the stairs; bringing a new life into the world was definitely the most satisfying part of his medical career. When that new life just happened to be Nessie's beautiful, healthy, baby girl, it made the joy he felt even sweeter.

He emerged to find Billy, Edward, and Sarah gathered in the living room. Bart was stretched out asleep on the sofa, his head resting comfortably in his mother's lap. It always amazed him how the boy never seemed to mind his mother's rock hard, ice cold skin; in fact he seemed to prefer it.

"Well?" Billy and Edward asked in unison. The sudden chorus of their voices made the two men look at each other briefly.

Carlisle chuckled before answering. "You are now the proud grandparents of a healthy six pound thirteen ounce bouncing baby . . . girl."

Though Billy and Edward both smiled broadly they somehow seemed to lack the level of enthusiasm he thought they should have exhibited. Perhaps they were hoping for a boy.

"Both mother and daughter are doing very well and there were no complications during the birth." He continued with his doctor's speech, it was the same one he gave with practiced regularity at the hospital except this time it was more personal. "Just as soon as Esme and Bella finish cleaning mother and daughter up, Jacob will move them to one of the upstairs rooms. You may visit then, but only briefly, labor isn't called labor for nothing and our new little mother needs some rest."

"Did she lose much blood; is it safe for the others to come back yet?" Edward asked. He still didn't look as excited as the doctor had expected, it was unnerving.

"No. She delivered naturally and she lost no more blood than I had anticipated." He shifted into his clinical voice. "Still, I would prefer it if your siblings would remain away from the house for a while longer. We need time to clean up the mess and for the smell to dissipate some."

"That sounds fair," Edward agreed. "I'll phone Alice and tell her."

It was the last straw; Billy still had the same unimpressed look on his face and Edward's cavalier attitude raked at Carlisle's last nerve.

"Alright, what's going on?" he demanded. "I've just given you the happiest news I can imagine and you two act as though it's nothing."

Edward and Billy shared another knowing exchange of looks and Carlisle found himself growling. He suddenly wished he hadn't as he saw poor Sarah flinch at the harsh sound. He was about to say something soothing to her when Edward interrupted him.

"We knew Nessie was going to have a girl, Carlisle, and that the baby was going to be healthy. It wasn't a surprise."

"Alice told you?" he questioned. "I thought she couldn't see anything because of the Quileute presence."

"Not Alice," his son answered. Both Edward and Billy suddenly cast their gaze toward his sleeping grandson. "Bart told us. I think you better sit down Carlisle, we have some pretty potent news for you."

"Sit down," he scoffed. "If you're afraid I'm going to faint dead away from shock at whatever you have to say, I'll have you know I haven't done so in over three centuries. Now talk."

Edward sighed heavily, "Abigail . . ."

"How did you know her name?" the doctor insisted. "I don't recall telling you that."

In fact, the baby's name was a small point of contention between Nessie and Jacob after the delivery. His grandson-in-law was sure that his wife was carrying a boy, a son which he intended to name William Edward. He was so convinced of this fact that he hadn't bothered with selecting a possible girl's name. When Carlisle announced the birth of a daughter Jacob was stunned and wanted to name her Isabella Marie after her grandmother. Bella protested vehemently, she hated the name Isabella and refused to have her granddaughter saddled with such a hideous moniker.

In the end it was his granddaughter who decided things. Over the past three months she had been visited in her dreams by an eight year old girl with jade eyes, bronze skin and chocolate brown hair. The girl told Nessie that her name was Abigail Marion, which was the name his granddaughter gave to her new baby girl.

For a long moment Edward only looked at him. "Well I could lie to you and tell you that I picked the information from your thoughts and it would probably make you feel a lot better, but I won't. Bart told us. Now can I finish?"

Carlisle took a couple of deep cleansing breaths and then nodded.

"As I was saying," Edward sighed. "Abigail imprinted on Bart several months ago when he touched Nessie's stomach. She's been visiting him in his dreams ever since."

It was Carlisle's turn to be stunned. It didn't surprise him that Nessie had dreamed of her daughter, mothers-to-be often reported such phenomenon. The fact that Abigail visited Bart in his dreams was another matter entirely and made him wonder if this was his great granddaughter's emerging gift. A dream weaver in the family, he thought, and a powerful one at that if she could enter Bart's dreams even before she was born.

And as if the emergence of a new powerful member of the Cullen extended family wasn't enough, Abby was now imprinted on Bart. Perhaps Edward was right to suggest he sit down. Absently he found his favorite armchair and lowered himself into it.

"Of course you understand the ramifications of this?" Billy's somber expression matched his solemn tone.

He understood them all too well. When Jacob imprinted on Nessie, his family had put off a much needed move in order to keep everyone together. Bart and Abigail would be forever bound to each other, playmates and semi-siblings for now, but they would be much more to each other later on. They would have to remain close to each other or else neither one of them would be happy.

This posed a serious problem as his family desperately needed to move. People were starting to ask in earnest for the name of his plastic surgeon, and the children were too long out of school. It was time to start over, yet a fractured family wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't the Cullen way.

"We'll come up with something," Carlisle responded as he looked into Sarah's worried eyes. "I never planned for us to get too far away from Forks anyway, Abigail is going to need a good pediatrician for the next few years and I honestly can't see anyone else doing the job. It'll all work out somehow, it always does."

______________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** Sometimes I lean heavily on past books I've read to come up with cool new powers to give to characters and then invent nifty names for them. In Abigail's case, a dream weaver is a powerful telepath who can enter and manipulate the dreams of others. This is not a new concept, Sci-fi and horror novels abound with both heroes and villains with such gifts.


	35. Chapter 35

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters, they are the property of their creator.

Chapter 34

**Lady Montague and Lord Capulet**

**________________________________________________________________**

_**Juliet:**__My only love sprung from my only hate! _

_Too early seen unknown, and known too late!_

_Prodigious birth of love it is to me,_

_That I must love a loathed enemy._

**Shakespeare**

**Romeo and Juliet, Act 1 Scene 5 lines 138 - 141**

_________________________________________________________________

Sarah sat on the porch listening to the sounds of the new morning. In the house she could hear Nessie singing softly to the baby as it suckled contentedly. She couldn't help the grin she wore or the warm fuzzy feelings that washed through her in repeating waves like the ocean tides.

Her mother and Bella took Bart and made a foray to the local Wal-Mart for a few last minute baby supplies, extra diapers, baby wipes, and the like. Bart had been so excited when Papa took him up to see the new baby that he could barely contain himself. According to Edward it was like a reunion of old friends. When Bart spoke, her brother said, Abigail instantly turned to the sound of the boy's voice.

Sarah's joy was tempered with a healthy measure of apprehension, however, as she didn't fully understand the meaning of _Imprinted_. Earlier, when she finally managed to corner her father alone for more than five minutes, she asked him.

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with, honey," he had dismissed her easily.

"Then why did Billy Black sound like a hanging judge handing down a sentence when he mentioned _Ramifications_?"

Papa did answer her right away; instead he closed his study door. She heard the latch click before he walked back to where she stood.

"You must promise me that you will remain calm," her father insisted. When she nodded he went on. "You've probably heard that when Nessie was born, Jacob imprinted on her."

She nodded again.

"Imprinting is the method by which the Quileute shape-shifters find their . . . um, mates."

"What?!" Sarah couldn't believe what she just heard from her father's mouth. "They're only children, Papa, how could you possibly consider . . ."

"Now Sarah, you promised to remain calm," Papa reminded her gently. "I assure you, there's absolutely nothing improper going on here."

It had taken her several seconds to regain her composure, but when she did, her father continued his explanation. Imprinting, he told her, didn't usually take place so early; ordinarily it occurred after puberty and the initial phasing episode. The bond between Abigail and Bart, at this point, was purely innocent; they would be playmates and best friends for now. It wouldn't blossom into anything remotely romantic until both Abby and Bart were of age.

In spite of her father's assurances, she was still a little unsure of the whole situation. Behind her, in the house, Jacob was hearing about his daughter's imprinting for the first time from Billy. The elder's voice was gentle and even as he explained things. Jacob's reaction on the other hand was explosive; his temperamental outburst would have made Vesuvius look like a lazy mountain spring.

The front door burst open and suddenly Jacob was on the porch. She could feel the heat of his rage radiating off him.

"You listen to me bloodsucker," the young Quileute warrior barked at her. "Keep that freaky half-breed son of yours away from my Abigail, do you hear me? If I find him anywhere near my daughter, I'll . . . I'll do to him what I did to those two _friends_ of yours."

The memory of Vincent and Skeeter lingered in her mind like the ghostly rumble of distant thunder. It was another life and another time, but she hadn't forgotten them. The night they died filled her thoughts once more, the sound of their laughter as they set up camp in the little meadow by the stream, their last words to her as they headed out to gather firewood, and the sound of their agonizing screams interlace with the haunting call of the wolf song. It all made since now, the Pack had killed her two best friends, Jacob Black just admitted to their murders.

"That's right," Jacob continued. Her expression must have betrayed her internal turmoil. "We took down those two pathetic leeches that you were so attached to. They begged, did you know that, the sleazy little maggots begged for their sorry lives."

Anger settled like a white hot brand in the void where her heart once beat. Sarah leapt from the rocking chair; she was completely phased before her feet hit the floor boards. She looked at the young warrior through feline eyes clouded with the crimson haze of blood lust.

"_If you hurt so much as a single strand of hair on Bart's head,"_ she roared as she projected her thought loudly into Jacob's mind, _"I'll teach you why cats rule and dogs . . . drool!" _

"Is that a threat?" Jacob snarled.

Before she could project an answer, the bronze skinned warrior was transformed into a hulking wolf. He took two steps toward her and growled, baring his long white fangs.

Sarah hissed and growled back at him, raising one forepaw to display her razor sharp claws. _"You killed my two best friends, you mangy cur, and you threaten to do the same to my son." _

"_That's what the Pack does to bloodsuckers, we kill them,"_ Jacob's voice sneered in her head. _"I'd tear you apart here and now, if it weren't for my father and that stupid treaty. But then again, you've already broken the treaty haven't you, leech, when you turned that helpless child into a half-breed. _

"_Dragons my ass! I'm sure if he knew the truth about Mommy Dearest and what you've done to him, he'd throw himself off the nearest cliff."_

That was the last straw, the crimson haze engulfed her. With an ear splitting roar, she leapt for Jacob's throat.

The front door flew open again and her father, followed by Edward and Billy, rushed out onto the porch. A strong hand caught her by the loose skin at her nape as she sailed through the air. Suddenly Sarah found herself suspended above the porch by the scruff of her neck like a naughty kitten. She turned her head shamefully and found it was her father who held her. Honey colored fire burned behind his eyes but his face remained a mask of serenity.

"What's going on here?" her father asked sternly. His gaze continued to rest on her with the weight of a fully loaded river barge.

"It seems Jacob has taken exception to Abigail's bonding with Bart," Edward supplied. "Some of the old prejudice about vampires still lingers I see, in spite of being married to one of us." Her brother glared at Jacob and then shook his head in disgust. "And you had to dredge _that _up, hasn't anyone ever told you . . . let sleeping dogs lie. You're a real idiot, Jacob, you know that. I think we should let Sarah use you for a scratching post just for being stupid."

Her father cleared his throat. "In case you've forgotten, Edward, the rest of us can't read minds. How about filling us in?"

"_He threatened Bart,"_ Sarah projected on what she recently discovered was an 'open' channel that allowed her to share her thoughts with all the minds in her immediate vicinity. _"He said if Bart ever came near his daughter again he'd do to him what he did to Vincent and Skeeter." _

Papa sighed heavily as he released Sarah from his iron grip. "Old friend, what should we to do with these two?" he asked Billy.

"Maybe you could grab both of them by the scruff of the neck and bash their heads together." The elder suggested as he animated the gesture. "You might manage to knock some sense into them that way."

Her father snickered at Billy's suggestion then in a serious tone he addressed Edward. "Could you get some clothes for Sarah so she can phase back, and while you're at it, see what you can find for Jacob."

"No need." Billy pointed towards Jacob's truck. "Jake keeps a couple of extra pairs of jeans behind the seat." Then the elder regarded Jake and Sarah severely. "When you two knuckle heads are on two feet again, we'll discuss this like adults . . . that is, if you can manage to act like adults."

* * * *

When Sarah emerged from the trees, Edward was waiting to escort her back to the house. To her surprise he didn't seem angry, instead his voice held notes of a strange dark humor as he greeted her. She took his elbow and allowed him to lead her.

"How much trouble am I in?" she asked him as they walked.

"I don't know," her brother answered casually. "That entirely depends on the mood of the patriarchs. The delicate peace that exists between the House of Montague and the House of Capulet is very important to them.

"If it's any consolation though, I did hear what Jake was thinking, and personally, I would have let you chew on him just a little. In my opinion he deserved it after that crack he made about your friends and for threatening Bart, but then again, I suppose that's why Carlisle is the leader."

"Did I really break the treaty?" The thought embarrassed her.

"You mean when you bit Bart?" her brother asked mildly.

Sarah nodded.

"Well, technically, yes," Edward sighed, "but don't let it worry you._ A_, you didn't know about the treaty at the time, and _B_, Carlisle and I had it all worked out with Billy and the tribal elders before you and Bart returned from Italy."

Inside the house, her brother led her to the large dining room table where Family Council was held. He pulled out the chair for her, seating her next to her father. Though she knew he was upset with her, she still found Papa's strong presence beside her comforting.

"Who wants to start?" her father asked; only silence followed.

Sarah decided to make the first move; after all, Papa was disappointed enough with her and she didn't wish to disappoint him further.

"I was sitting on the porch minding my own business," Sarah began shakily. "Billy had just finished telling Jacob about Abby and Bart when suddenly he stormed out onto the porch and threatened to kill Bart if he ever came near _his Abigail_ again." Then she dropped her voice and added, "Just like he killed Vincent and Skeeter."

"Is this true son?" Billy inquired sternly. By the sound of his voice Sarah could tell the elder was not at all amused.

"Well . . . well, yes, but she offered a counter threat," Jacob stuttered. "The little bloodsucker conveniently left that part out!"

"Enough! I don't care what Sarah said to you in response," the elder growled. "You've admitted to threatening the life of an eleven year old boy, I find that appalling! That sort of behavior is completely unacceptable for a tribal leader."

"Excuse me, Revered Elder." Sarah begged pardon in the same reverent voice she used when speaking to her Uncle Hezekiah. "Jake is right, I did threaten him in return. I told him, if her ever hurt Bart that I would . . . well that I would . . ."

"It doesn't matter," the elder interrupted. "Jacob knows better. Imprinting just happens, and when it does there's no undoing it. He had no right to threaten your son."

"But I wasn't very nice Elder and it was wrong of me," Sarah whispered. She was starting to feel more than a little guilty, if only because her actions were upsetting to her father. "Deux faux ne font pas un vrai." The phrase tumbled from her mouth before she could stop it.

"Deux . . . what?" Billy questioned. "That's not Choctaw."

"It's French," her brother supplied, a smile rang in the ivory keys of his voice. "It means: two wrongs don't make a right."

"I'm sorry for interrupting this very important meeting of the minds," Nessie's voice drifted through the room like a gentle sea breeze, "but isn't anyone going to ask what I think, or does my humble opinion not count?"

Sarah had been so distracted by everything that she hadn't heard her niece descend the stairs. She listened as Papa sighed before getting up from his seat. His feet played a somber march as he crossed the room to where Nessie stood.

"What are you doing out of bed my dear?" he asked her gently. "Come, let me take you back up to your room."

"No. I've laid up there listening to all of you and I'm sick of it," Nessie grumbled. Her voice was none too steady and, by her scent, Sarah could tell she needed to be back in bed. "Jacob how could you, threatening the life of an innocent little boy like that?

"It just so happens that I like Bart, very much. He's kind and intelligent and, when the time comes, I think he'll make a wonderful mate for Abigail."

"But, Ness, he's . . . one of _them_."

"I'm one of _them_!" the young mother protested, it was the closest thing to a growl Sarah had ever heard from her. Nessie always seemed so calm and even tempered, this was surprising.

"You don't understand. It's not the same thing, sweetheart," Jacob dismissed.

"Really?" Edward chuckled wickedly. "If memory serves me, and it usually does, I recall a very similar . . . _debate_, regarding your imprinting on our Nessie. That bit of unfortunate business very nearly ended with my Bella slaughtering you in the backyard." Her brother paused and she heard the mahogany table groan as he leaned on it. "Forgive me Jake, but I was under the impression that the union between you and Nessie helped our two families move beyond the whole _us and_ _them_ issue."

Sarah stood to her feet, her silent heart hurt so badly she thought her chest might burst. "I'm very sorry that my son isn't good enough for your daughter, Jacob. I promise, just as soon as Benjamin and I are married, we'll move as far away from here as we can, all the way to New York if necessary . . . I wouldn't want Bart to be a problem."

"Nonsense." Nessie's feet shuffled weakly across the hardwood as she made her way to Sarah's side. "This pregnancy was hard on me and Grandpa Carlisle says I shouldn't try it again, so there's no chance for Abby to have any siblings . . . but I can't think of a better big brother for her than Bart. I want them to grow up together, Sarah. They won't be happy without each other, I know that from experience."

"I'm sorry, Ness," Sarah's voice cracked when she spoke and she was close to sobbing, "but I don't think your husband shares your sentiments. I love my family, all of them, and I won't see it torn apart over this."

Nessie wrapped a weak arm around Sarah's slumped shoulders. "You leave Jacob to me, Aunt Sarah, and don't give Bart's safety a second thought; no one is going to hurt _him _or anyone else in this family. I guarantee it."

The harsh clamor of a chair being dragged against the wood floor accosted her ears. Jacob was on his feet, his breathing ragged with anger.

"I meant what I said," the young warrior growled. Then he stormed from the house slamming the door as he went. Soon the sound of Jake's truck engine roaring to life filled her hearing and he sped away from the house.

The angry universe was at it again, she groaned mentally, trying to snatch her family and her hard won happiness away from her. Old pain and new melted into a single throbbing ache that seated itself at the core of her being. In the back of her mind, the gaping black maw of gloom and despair that had so often threatened to devour her in the past licked its fiendish lips once more.

"Don't worry, little sister," Billy's voice soothed, drawing her momentarily from her darkness, "Jacob can be hot headed and as stubborn as a mule, but Ness and I know how to handle him. As the senior tribal elder, I personally guarantee Bart's safety. He's welcome on our land and in my home and he's free to visit Abigail anytime. In fact," Billy paused and took a deep breath, "I extend that same welcome to all of you. It seems the Creator has decided that we belong together so who am I to question such wisdom. We're family and that's that."


	36. Chapter 36

**Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters! ! !**

Chapter 35

**Quileute Tag**

**___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

_Over a hundred years ago, when many Sioux were still living in what is now Minnesota, there was a band of Hunkpapa Sioux at Spirit Lake under a chief called Tawa Makoce, meaning His Country._

_The chief had three sons and one daughter. The sons tried to be warriors as mighty as their father, but that was a hard thing to do. Again and again they battled the Crow Indians with reckless bravery, exposing themselves in the front rank, fighting hand to hand, until one by one they all were killed._

_Now only his daughter was left to the sad old chief. Some say her name was Makhta. Others call her Winyan Ohitika, Brave Woman._

_The girl was beautiful and proud. Many young men sent their fathers to the old chief with gifts of fine horses that were preliminary to marriage proposals._

_"I will not take a husband," she said, "until I have counted coup on the Crows to avenge my dead brothers."_

_At this time, the Kangi Oyate, the Crow nation, made a great effort to establish themselves along the banks of the upper Missouri in country which the Sioux considered their own._

_The Sioux decide to send out a strong war party to chase them back, and among the young men riding out were Red Horn and Little Eagle, two of Brave Woman's principal suitors._

_Brave Woman put on her best dress of white buckskin richly decorated with beads and porcupine quills, and around her neck she wore a choker of dentalium shells. She went to the old chief . . . . _

_**From: Brave Woman Counts Coup**_

_**A White River Lakota Legend**_

**____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

"Checkmate, Uncle Jasper!" Bart exclaimed. It was the fifth time in a row Bart had beaten his uncle at chess. Sarah giggled as she listened to her son and her brothers.

"Bart, if I keep playing against you I'm going to end up in the poor house." Jazz sighed. "And that would make your Aunt Alice very unhappy. She's accustomed to a certain, shall we say, standard of living."

"He got you again!" Emmett exclaimed. "That's what I'm talking about, now pay up," he demanded confidently. "I'm going to buy Rose something really nice with all this loot."

"Em, why don't you take a turn?" Jasper suggested. "Give me a chance to win some of my money back."

The deep rumble of Emmett's laughter bounced off the living room walls. "Not a chance, bro, not a chance. I played against him yesterday while you guys were out. He mopped the floor with me. Why do you think I suggested our little wager in the first place?"

Sarah heard Emmett gently pat Bart on the back. "Little dude, this summer your Uncle Em is taking you on a road trip. We're gonna hustle chess from coast to coast. By next August, you'll have a college fund and I'll have enough money to by Rose an island just like your grandma Esme's."

"I don't think Carlisle would allow that," Edward's voice boomed. Sarah heard him come in through the back door and make his way through the kitchen. He and Bella were supposed to spend the morning at Nessie's. Her sister must still be there since Edward returned home alone.

"And then of course, there's the small matter of Benjamin," Edward continued. "I'm sure he wouldn't let a delinquent like you take his son out for ice cream, let alone a cross country tour. I know I wouldn't."

"Hey, Edward, why don't _you _take the kid on?" Emmett taunted. "I'm sure with your awesome mind reading skills you could beat him."

"Perhaps," Edward purred. Sarah listened as he settled himself at the piano. "But I doubt it. When it comes to chess, Bart can process an opponent's potential moves and his own subsequent counter moves faster than a NASA supercomputer can crunch numbers. Unlike some people, I know when I've met my match."

Before Emmett could respond, the lovely sound of piano music filled the living room. Sarah smiled; it was one of her favorite compositions by Vivaldi. In no time Emmett, Jasper, and Bart became restless from inactivity and the trio migrated upstairs to Emmett's room to play Halo on his X-Box.

Sarah found the music soothing and distracting at the same time. Her mind still lingered on the argument she and Jacob had over Bart. In spite of Nessie and Billy's assurances, her son's safety was still a source of great concern for her.

And then there was the matter of her friends' murders.

She still remembered vividly the evening Papa had broken the horrible news to her. He had been gentle, his voice soft and soothing, as he told her that her friends were the victims of an animal attack. It was a lie of course and she knew that now, but she was human at the time, what else could he tell her? . . . _Oh, by the way, Sarah, your friends were vampires and they were destroyed by a pack of shape-shifted wolves._

She remembered the pain that followed as the gaping black maw of the angry universe feasted with zeal on her broken heart. If she tried, she could still hear herself screaming and felt the sobs that rocked her body. Mercifully, Papa had given her something that made her sleep but that only brought her nightmares.

Now she knew the truth and while she could forgive dumb animals for being what they were created to be, she was having a hard time forgiving Jacob. From deep within, her guardian lion roared; it wanted justice for her friends. Sarah found herself torn between her base predatory instincts for revenge and her sense of conscience.

A debt of blood was owed, a debt Sarah couldn't collect without hurting her family. Jacob was Nessie's husband and Abigail's father; she didn't wish to put them through the same agony of loss she had endured so often in her life. She categorically refused to be the angry universe's pawn by inflicting pain on others. And then there was the matter of Papa, the image of her father's face as he held her by the scruff of the neck was forever etched in her mind. She never wanted to upset him like that again.

Needless to say, her emotions had been in a constant state of turmoil since the incident. Jasper did his best to soothe her with his gift, but it seemed of little use. Her unrest was further complicated by the fact that in two weeks the family would be attending a Quileute celebration feast in honor of Nessie's new baby. Jacob would most certainly be there and, while the whole family was invited, she was considering not going and keeping Bart at home with her.

"Nessie and Abigail wouldn't be happy about that." As he spoke, Edward didn't miss a single note of the song he was playing. Obviously he had been listening to her thoughts.

"Maybe not, but I don't want another fight," Sarah sighed. "I couldn't stand to hurt Papa like that again." And she wasn't entirely sure she could keep herself from killing Jacob this time. She heard her brother chuckle darkly, again he had been listing.

"I understand," Edward agreed. The melody he was playing picked up in tempo. "But you deserve justice for the loss of your friends and besides, you'll never gain the respect of Jacob and the Pack by avoiding them."

"You're suggesting I bite his head off?" She laughed dryly. "Dead people don't respect you either and it would kill Papa if I dishonored the family by putting another _dent_ in the treaty."

"Actually, I had something else in mind," her brother told her as he finished playing. When the last note stopped ringing in the air he continued. "When your brothers and I suggest taking you hunting this evening, play along."

* * * *

Carlisle peered through the lens of his microscope; the smear of Abigail's blood he was studying fascinated him. Already he'd done a DNA analysis; his great granddaughter was the most fascinating hybrid he'd ever seen; human, vampire, and shape-shifter traits all mingled together in equal proportions. Her profile closely resembled Sarah's, except for the proportions of course. While Abby exhibited equal parts of each genetic tree, his youngest daughter retained only a small fraction of her human genome, just enough to allow the shape-shifter gene to express itself.

He couldn't wait to see how Abby's gift, being a dream weaver, would grow and develop. When he was alone with his grandson earlier that day, Carlisle asked Bart if she was still visiting him. He was shy at first to answer, and the doctor suspected it had to do with Jacob's reaction. No one told him about it directly and so he had assumed that Bart was just very perceptive and had sensed something was out of sorts. When he eventually managed to coax an answer out of the boy, he learned how wrong he was.

"Yes, Grandpa, she visits me every night, but please don't tell Uncle Jake." The boy had pleaded. "Abigail said her dad is pissed about us being special friends, and I don't want her to get into trouble."

Carlisle shook his head at the memory, Bart wasn't worried about his own safety, should Jacob discover this. Instead, his only concern was for Abigail, his friend . . . his future mate. Their bond was strong already and would only grow stronger with time.

He removed Abby's slide from the microscope and replaced it with one containing a smear of Sarah's venom. He really didn't need to look at the sample in order to compare them, but it was an ingrained human habit he'd picked up after years in hospital labs. Too many years worth of keeping up appearances he thought to himself as he smiled. He was better at being human than most humans.

Never before in his research had he seen anything as unusual as Sarah. She, like Abby and Nessie, was an enigma that didn't give up her secrets easily. Until she bit Bart he had no idea that her venom was 'sterile'. It lacked what he had identified as the 'potency factor' which was responsible for causing transformation.

The retention of several human genes post transformation was another anomaly; one that Carlisle suspected was the reason for her continued blindness as well as her unique behavior and anemia. Though he didn't tell her so for fear of hurting her feelings and alienating her, she wasn't a _true_ vampire. Sarah was a hybrid, just like Nessie and Abigail, and, to a lesser extent, just like Bart. Her genetic tree was 75% vampire, 20% shape-shifter, and 5% human. This revelation, when he stumbled on it, explained a lot.

Through countless hours of study, he learned that the Vampire genome was completely dominant; in fact virulent would be a better word to describe it. When it was introduced into a human host, it destroyed and rearranged human genetic material to suit its purposes until the end result, a newborn, was achieved. His suspicion was that there had been something defective in Cane's venom that caused the incomplete expression of vampirism in Sarah. Without a venom sample from Cane, however, finding that original defect was next to impossible.

There were certain unusual surprises to his research findings, however. For the purpose of study, he introduced drops of his own venom into blood samples he had collected from members of the Pack, in every case the vampire genetic material was almost viral in the way it completely overwrote both human and Shape-shifter traits. The only exception to this was in samples collected from Pack members while they were phased, active expression of the shape-shifter trait provided immunity to vampire venom.

Technically, since she wasn't actively expressing the shape-shifter trait at the time she was bitten, Sarah should be wholly a vampire and she shouldn't be able to phase. It seemed that with each successive hybrid, the genetic picture became more and more complex. Instead of unraveling the mystery of vampire origins, he seemed to be drawn deeper and deeper into a blind maze that he couldn't guess the end of.

His phone vibrated on the table, he glanced at the caller ID and recognized the number instantly. Why was he calling?, Carlisle wondered.

"Hello, Ben, what's up?" he answered the phone pleasantly.

"Where the hell is Sarah," his friend growled on the other end of the line. "She's not answering my calls."

"She's gone hunting with her brothers," the doctor soothed. By the amount of excess agitation in Ben's voice he could tell that the dietary change was taking its toll. Perhaps he would have Jasper give Ben a call later; just for a little pep talk . . . if anyone understood what Ben was going through it was Jazz.

"And speaking of hunting," Carlisle continued. "When last did you go? By the sound of your voice I'd wager you are in desperate need."

"This morning, and you're right," Ben agreed. "My throat burns like Greek fire, but I wanted to speak with Sarah first. She usually waits for my calls, is something wrong . . . that brute, Jacob, didn't threaten her and my son again did he? I swear, Carlisle, it was only my deep respect for you that kept me from jumping on the next flight and teaching that mangy mongrel a lesson."

"I know, old friend, and I greatly appreciate your restraint," Carlisle assured his friend. "Everything is fine, really. Jacob hasn't . . . well, to borrow one of Rose's favorite lines, _he hasn't gotten his head out of his ass yet_, but Nessie and Billy are trying to steer him in that general direction."

"They had better _steer him_ _in that general direction_ fairly quickly," Ben warned. "One more threat against my family and he's going to find that _his head_ and _his body_ are going to have a parting of the ways . . . courtesy of yours truly."

Carlisle would have laughed, but Ben was serious. His friend meant business when it came to his family and he wasn't going to tolerate any more threats. "I understand. Why don't you go hunt and when Sarah and her brothers get back, I'll have her call you?"

* * * *

Sarah raced through the forest behind Edward while Jazz and Em trailed behind her. This was so she wouldn't get confused by too many footfalls in front of her and crash into a tree. When she heard her brother stop ahead of her she slowed to a human jog and focused on his breathing until she was standing beside him. It wasn't long before the others joined them.

"Ok, Sarah," Edward began. "Just up ahead is the baseball meadow. Once we leave you, I want you to phase. Come and join us when you're all fur and fangs."

She felt herself frown. "I wish you guys would've given me the heads up," Sarah complained. "I would have brought a change of clothes."

She didn't fancy the idea of returning home in lion form. Bart didn't know about her shape-shifting, her father thought it best not to tell him just yet. She didn't want her son to catch a glimpse of her like this and be afraid.

"Don't worry darlin', good old Jazz has you covered." The trumpet of Jasper's voice played happily, driving away her frown. "I've got a backpack with clothes in it for you. Jeans and a t-shirt identical to what you've got on now."

With that they left her to phase in private. When she emerged from the trees and entered the baseball meadow they were waiting for her.

"_Ok, what now?"_ she projected to them as she loped over to where her brothers stood.

"Now we teach you to play tag, Quileute style," Jasper smiled as he knelt in front of her. "I watched the wolves play it a few times. Seth told me they use the game to practice fighting techniques." He held up a red ribbon with a silver sleigh bell tied on it, showing it to her before he tied it around her neck. "The object of the game is to get the bell off your opponent's neck before he gets yours off you. You'll go against Em first. For safety's sake, the bell will be tied around his waist. We wouldn't want you ruining that handsome mug of his by accident, Rose would be pissed."

"_Sounds like fun, but why are you guys teaching me this?" _

"To be honest, we've been meaning for a while now to teach you some fighting skills, but Carlisle wouldn't let us," Emmett told her as he tied the bell ribbon around his waist. "He said it was _unnecessary_." Her brother added notes of disgust played in the oboe of Em's voice.

"More importantly," Edward picked up, dismissing Emmett's irritation. "Games are a central part of Quileute celebrations and Jacob and company are sure to be playing this one. They like to wager on it. We teach it to you, you practice every night until the party, and then you beat them at their own game on their home turf."

Uncle Hezekiah told her many stories as a child during her summer visits. While Coyote stories were always her favorite, war stories followed a close second. The most honor a native warrior could obtain in battle didn't come from killing his enemy but rather from counting coup on him. Riding up and touching an enemy with an open hand or coup stick in the heat of battle and escaping with one's life was considered bravery of the highest order. She could see where great honor could be gained in this.

"_What makes you think I can beat them after only a couple weeks practice?"_ she asked, doubt edged into her mind voice. _"They have the advantages of strength, speed, and experience."_

"True," Edward agreed, "but you have more advantages than you might think. The wolves are fast, but being a vampire and a feline, you're considerably faster."

"You're also more agile," Jasper added. "Felines have a very flexible spine, making your axial skeleton less rigid than other animals. Also, your shoulder blades are free floating, giving you a greater range of motion in your front quarters. Cats really do rule darlin'."

"Especially vampire cats," Emmett said proudly. "Now come on, Sarah, let's play."

She watched her grizzly of an older brother drop into a fighting crouch, Sarah followed suit. She locked a portion of her mind on the prize tied around Em's waist. The rest of her focus was concentrated on her brother's movements. When he lunged and tried to grab her, she sought an opening and dodged left, easily avoiding Emmett's flailing arm.

"You won't win on the defensive, Sarah," Jasper coached. "As my commanding officer back in Texas used to say, hit 'em hard, fast, and in a hurry."

Sarah took Jazz's advice to heart. She mentally reviewed what had just happened even while circling with Em as he got ready for another assault. Aerial maneuvers were definitely out; Em would catcher her around the waist with his huge arms if she jumped. Dodging worked but wouldn't give her a victory.

When Emmett ran at her again, Sarah returned the favor by charged towards him. Just as his hands got within range of her, Sarah dropped to the ground. Her forward momentum caused her to slide, like a baseball player, right between her brother's sprawled legs. As she passed under him, she flipped onto her back, reached out with her right forepaw, and hooking the red ribbon around Em's waist with a single razor sharp claw. Bell and ribbon fluttered gracefully to the grassy earth.

"Yes!" Jasper shouted, "That's the kind of natural feline move that the dogs can't copy."

"Go easy you two — I don't want Sarah to break anything," Edward warned. She had only recently discovered that her brother was also a doctor, at least on paper anyway. "She'll heal once she phases back, but if Carlisle finds out what we're up too, he'll have our heads . . . literally."

"Then I suggest you let us join in your little game," Alice's voice rang out across the field, "or we might not be able to guarantee our silence."

Sarah turned her head and spied her three sisters entering the meadow. Her guess was that they were followed. _"You want to play too?"_

"Of course," Alice insisted pleasantly as she arrived at Sarah's side. Her pixie of a sister reached out and scratched her ear affectionately. "Each of us has a different fighting style. The more practice you get against all of us the better prepared you'll be."

By the time they left the meadow and headed home, Sarah was strangely sore in places she didn't know a vampire could be sore in. She was also starting to formulate a plan to honor her two fallen friends.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**_Footnote:_ **The story _Brave Woman Counts Coup_ in its entirety as well as many other wonderful Native American legends can be found at the **First People** web site . . . (three **w's** _then a _**dot**_ then_ **firstpeople** _then_ a **dot** _then_ **us **) I hope you can figure out that link, I'm trying to be creative and work around the system.


	37. Chapter 37

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!!

Chapter 36

**Counting Coup**

**___________________________________________________________________________________________________**

_"Father," Brave Woman said, "I must go to the place where my brothers died. I must count coup for them. Tell me that I can go."_

_The old chief wept with pride and sorrow. "You are my last child," he said, "and I fear for you and for a lonely old age without children to comfort me. But your mind has long been made up. I see that you must go; do it quickly. Wear my war-bonnet into battle. Go and do not look back."_

_And so his daughter, taking her brothers' weapons and her father's war-bonnet and best war pony, rode out with the warriors._

_At first Brave Woman held back from the fight. She supported the Sioux by singing brave-heart songs and by making the shrill, trembling war cry with which Indian women encourage their men._

_But when the Sioux, including her own warriors from the Hunkpapa band, were driven back by overwhelming numbers, she rode into the midst of the battle. She did not try to kill her enemies, but counted coup left and right, touching them with her coup-stick. _

_With a woman fighting so bravely among them, what Sioux warrior_ _could think of retreat . . . _

_**Continued From: **__**Brave Woman Counts Coup**_

_**A White River Lakota Legend**_

**__________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Papa's car pulled to a stop in Billy Black's front yard. The celebration would be taking place in the field across the road from the elder's house. As her father helped her out of the car, the smell of human food, wood smoke, and freshly cut grass filled her nose. The sounds of music, laughter, and talking drifted on the warm autumn air.

Her audio form of people watching was disturbed by the sound of Edward's Volvo as it pulled up beside her father's Mercedes. She listened as her siblings piled out of the car. They were laughing among themselves but got strangely quiet as they approached her and their parents. Bart had already darted off to find Abigail and Nessie.

"You ready Sarah?" Edward asked.

Sarah nodded and took his arm, but before they could hurry off Papa called after them.

"Hold on a minute." Her father's voice sounded just a little tense and she could feel a warning coming on. "This is a family celebration, to which we have been graciously invited, so I'm sure I don't need to tell you all to be on your best behavior." Then he added sternly, "No tomfoolery, got it?"

"We know," the choir of siblings sang in unison. It was only the thirteenth time that morning he'd said the same thing to them.

"Why am I suddenly inclined not to trust my own children?" their father asked suspiciously.

"Oh stop it," her mother scolded Papa. "Leave them alone and let them have some fun. Honestly, Carlisle, the way you're acting, people would think we'd raised a gang of hooligans."

"Very well," Papa said with a sigh, he still seemed less than convinced. "Off with you then, but remember my warning."

They wandered around for a while. Edward called it strolling and it was the first phase of his plan. Eventually they strolled their way to the far corner of the field near the woods where the Pack was hanging out. As they got near a gruff voiced man stopped them.

"What do you bloodsuckers want?"

"Well if it isn't Sam, how nice to see you again," Edward greeted the man kindly. "How's the wife?"

"I said what do you want?"Sam grunted.

"Nothing," Edward answered casually. "The game looks interesting, may we watch?"

"Sure, whatever," Sam dismissed; his voice was filled with arrogance. "Just keep your distance . . . you leeches reek."

Sarah listened as Sam turned and walked away. When he rejoined his companions there was some grumbling before the Pack returned to the game.

"Is he always that rude?" she finally asked.

"Oh no, Kitten, he was being polite," Jasper informed her. "Trust me, you don't want to see Sam Uley being rude because it would probably be the last thing you _ever_ see."

The comment sent a chill up Sarah's spine. Her siblings watched for a while and she listened. Jake had taken on several Pack members and defeated each one of them. From what she could gather he was the tribal champion. Finally, after about an hour, Edward handed her over to Alice, instructing her to take Sarah somewhere quiet to phase. When she returned, her siblings escorted her closer to where the Pack was gathered.

"Hey," Sam shouted. "I thought I told you bloodsuckers to keep your distance."

"Sorry," Edward apologized. "But we have a new player; our Sarah would like to give your little game a try."

"It's not a game," Sam barked, "it's training now beat it."

"Oh yes, training." Edward pointed towards a young boy sitting cross legged by a stump with a cigar box full of money in his lap. "That's why the Pack has its very own bookie to take wagers on the matches . . . because its training. Right Sam, not a sporting event at all, no indeed, nothing going on here but serious training."

"What's your angle, Cullen?" Sam demanded hotly.

"No angle Sam, Sarah's just a fellow shape-shifter looking to try her hand . . . well, um . . . paw, at Quileute tag." She'd never heard her brother sound so angelic before. "Come on, how about it, just one match?"

Sam eyed her doubtfully before turning back to his comrades.

"Well?" he asked them.

"_Excuse me,"_ Sarah projected on the open channel. Instantly every eye in the little knot of warriors turned to look at her. She could tell they were more than a little surprised. _"All I ask is an opportunity to represent my family and my tribe in a fair contest, is that so awful. Or maybe the mighty Quileute wolves are afraid a Choctaw lion will beat them at their own game." _

"Wait here, I need to confer with the others." Sam glared at her briefly before trotting off to join his breathren.

"Way to go Sarah," Edward griped. "Nothing says subtle like a kick in the crotch."

"Stop bellyaching, Edward," Rose took up for her. "She got their attention didn't she? I think it was brilliant."

The exchange between her brother and sister was cut short by Sam's return.

"Ok, Cullen, you've got a match." Sam paused and looked back over his shoulder for a moment. "The girl against Jacob . . . that is, unless she's a _scaredy cat_."

Laughter, yips and a few meows erupted from the Pack. Sarah repressed an irritated growl.

"Hell no, she ain't scared! Why should she be afraid of Old Yeller over there?" Emmett insisted in her defense. "In fact, why don't we make this little contest more . . . _interesting_?"

"What did you have in mind?"Sam asked. The man's twisted smile made him look like a snake getting ready to devour a nest full of baby rabbits.

"How much is in the cigar box?" Jasper pointed to the boy as he asked.

"Three hundred," the boy answered.

"We'll cover that," Jasper said calmly.

She watched as Jazz reached for his back pocket and took out his wallet. Without as much as a hint of a second thought, a wad of brand new fifty dollar bills were in her brother's hand. He held them out for the boy with the cigar box to come and get.

"That's awfully generous bloodsucker," Sam snickered. "It almost makes me hate to take your money, but I will. Have your _cat_ in the ring in five minutes."

After a few last minute instructions from her coaches, Sarah ducked under the rope barrier that made up one half of the ring. The edge of the forest made up the other half. Jacob in all his lupine glory was waiting for her. He stretched out lazily in the dirt, resting. Also waiting was a wolf she recognized as Seth and his sister Leah who was still in human form.

"Alright, _Cat_," Leah sneered, "Seth and I are going to be judges and referees. I'm going to lay down the rules for you now. Usually we have only two but today, because you're _playing_, we have three. Rule number _one_, no using that freaky vampire mind thing you do." Leah glared at Sarah before continuing. "_Two_, no biting, this is a training exercise and friendly competition not a blood match. _Three_, contestants must remain inside the ring; if you leave the ring you're disqualified.

"You win the match either by being the first to score ten points on your opponent or by removing the bell from your opponent's neck. Any questions?"

"_How do you score points?"_ Sarah asked as she allowed Leah to tie the bell around her neck.

"Good question, I was wondering if you would ask." Leah motioned for her brother to come over. "Any unanswered strike to your opponent's person earns you a point. So if, for example, I was in a match against Seth here and I popped him on the nose and got away before he could pop me back, that's a point for me."

"_Any contact, even a head butt or a wayward brush of the tail?"_

"That's right, _Cat_. Are you still sure you want to play?"

Inwardly Sarah smiled; her siblings hadn't told her about scoring points. This just might work after all she thought with a mental grin. _"Bring it!" _she sent and allowed just a hint of a roar to vibrate on her mind voice.

Once Sarah and Jacob were in their respective corners Leah took her place in the center of the ring. She held her right hand high over her head, a single eagle feather gripped loosely between her fingers.

"As soon as the feather hits the ground, you can go at each other," Leah announced, then she counted to three and let the feather go.

In typical nonchalant feline fashion Sarah watched the feather fall. Her focus was split between it and her opponent. Jacob was tense, coiled on his haunches like a loaded spring.

The moment the feather touched the hard-packed earth, Jake exploded towards her. Sarah simply sat there until the last possible second before neatly leaping out of the way. As she did, she made sure her tail sounded a loud thwack against Jake's flank.

"One point for the cat," Leah grumbled in disgust.

Twenty minutes into the contest Sarah had four points and Jake had none. Every time the wolf attacked she would simply dodge him and let her tawny tail smack against his body somewhere. She hadn't even tried to snatch the bell from Jake's neck.

To her surprise, a large crowd had formed to watch the match and cheer the local hero. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bookie taking even more bets, his cigar box was practically overflowing with money.

Suddenly the crowed went silent as it parted to allow Billy, in his wheel chair, and her father to come to the edge of the ring. Papa didn't look at all pleased, the honey-colored fire she remembered from two weeks earlier raged behind his eyes once more.

"I thought I said no tomfoolery!" her father growled at Edward.

Before her brother could come up with a good defense for what was going on, Billy Black stepped in.

"Calm down old friend," The elder soothed, "It's just a friendly little game. You know how competitive young people can be; it's part of their nature. Who's winning by the way?"

"The cat . . . I mean Sarah, six points to Jacob's none," Leah answered. The girl's disgust was obvious.

"Very impressive, little sister," the elder addressed her. "You play well, but please tell me, do you really intend to defeat our tribal champion via a touch point victory?" Disappointment pulled the corners of his mouth into a frown. "I'd really like to see you take his bell."

Billy had a point she thought as she sat watching the gathered crowd. She had proved beyond a doubt that she could evade Jacob's attacks and pretty much touch him at will. Now it was time to finish this, it was time to take Jacob's bell. For Vincent and Skeeter she reminded herself.

"_You're right, Revered Elder,"_ she projected. _"I play to honor the memory of my two fallen friends, my brothers. For their sake, I will take Jacob's bell." _

"_You can try, Kitty Cat,"_ Jacob sneered at the back of her mind. _"I hope Carlisle knows the name of a good vet, you're going to need one."_

Sarah ignored Jacob's attempt to goad her. Edward warned her before the match that his son-in-law would 'talk trash' and try to make her angry. It was only a distraction meant to cause her to make costly mistakes. She fought down the crimson haze and focused her attention instead on Billy.

"Excellent, the spirits of your dead will be honored by your courage." The elder nodded to Leah, "Restart the match."

Once more Sarah and Jacob took their respective places and Leah stood in the center of the ring, feather in hand. With a nod from Billy, she released it. When it hit the ground, instead of lunging at each other cat and wolf began slowly circling.

For the first time since she stepped into the ring, Sarah took time to appraise Jacob. He was actually quite handsome, for a dog. In size, he was considerably larger than a real wolf and his russet fur was long and shaggy. If they were to stand side by side, Sarah suspected that Jake would actually be a good two inches taller than her at the withers, but she guessed they probably weighed close to the same amount.

Since the moment that feather left Leah's fingers, Sarah intended to win the match by scoring the required ten points so she had no clear plan for getting the bell. Suddenly Jake rushed her and she was reduced once more to avoiding his attack. This time, however, she didn't use her tail to score a touch point.

"Hit 'em hard, fast, and in a hurry!" Jasper encouraged from ring side. She was sure she was the only one to hear him over the noise of the crowd, Sarah purred with delight as an idea began to form.

When Jacob rushed her again she allowed herself to be taken to the ground. This was something her brothers had coached against, insisting it would give the advantage over to her opponent.

"No, Sarah, not like that . . ." Edward moaned.

"Damn it, what the hell is she doing?" Emmett cursed.

"Ouch!" Jasper whispered.

A loud cheer and several wild whoops went up from the crowd as wolf and lion hit the dirt with a resounding thud. Sarah made sure her opponent had her pinned with her back against the packed earth and her belly exposed. This was a position of weakness that a dog would never allow himself to be put in, but it was exactly what she wanted. Sarah was right at home and she was about to let the big bad wolf know it.

"_What's the matter, Kitty Cat, are you tired?"_ Jacob snarled in her face exposing his long sharp canines.

"_Why not at all, Mr. Wolf, I'm as fresh as a spring daisy. But you look like you could use a little pick-me-up, why don't I give you a hand, or in this case a paw . . . well two paws actually . . . three if you count this one." _

Before Jake could process what Sarah was babbling on about, she reached up with one forepaw and hooked a deft claw under the ribbon collar holding the bell. Simultaneously she brought her hind feet up and under, bracing them against Jacob's soft fury belly.

"_Bye-bye now, have a nice flight."_

With that she kicked out with her hind feet, catapulting Jacob high into the air. Her sharp claw easily cleaved the ribbon in two and, as her opponent landed in the dirt several yards away, his bell landed with a jingle in the middle of Sarah's chest.

She got to her feet and reverently carried the bell across the ring, past Jacob who still lay sprawled and stunned, to the place where Billy watched from his wheel chair. Sarah dropped the silver bell gently in his lap.

"_Honored Elder,"_ she began reverently, _"Jacob and the Pack killed my two friends, Vincent and Skeeter. They were like brothers to me. In my heart I yearned for justice, a measure of fit recompense to be paid in blood. Today, I touched my enemy in the heat of battle and escaped his touch. By my cunning and skill, I took an item from his person. I have honored my dead and found justice; I consider the debt of blood paid in full." _

Billy reached out with a trembling hand and touched Sarah's head, scratching her ear lightly. "Well done, little sister, and well spoken. Let there be no more animosity between us. Let there be peace between you and me, between you and the members of my household, and between you and my tribe."

"_Peace be unto you, Elder, and to those of your household and unto those of your tribe."_

* * * *

Sarah sat in the back seat of her father's car, Bart lay sleeping with his head resting in her lap. There had been only silence in the car since they pulled out of Billy's yard. In her mind she reviewed the unhappy string of events that had unfolded after her match with Jacob.

After her very formal exchange of words with Billy, she had sought her father's approval. Through feline eyes she watched as anger seethed beneath her father's calm exterior, but he said nothing to her about her game. Instead he was polite when Billy congratulated him on his daughter's clever victory.

Later, after Sarah phased back, she was instructed by her father to remain on Billy's front porch with Nessie, Abigail, and Bart. Throughout the rest of the afternoon she caught whispered snippets of her father's conversations.

"_I'm sorry about Sarah's little stunt, Billy, I warned her and the other's to be on their best behavior," Papa apologized to the elder._

"_Nonsense old friend," Billy dismissed him with a jovial chuckle. "That was the best game of tag I've seen in years. Very rarely do you find two warriors so evenly matched in skill, strength, and cunning. I'd really like to see them go at it again sometime."_

Later she heard her father arguing with her mother. That really shocked her because her parents were the epitome of happiness in marriage to her. She'd never heard them as much as raise their voices to each other let alone fight before.

"_I warned her Esme," he fumed. "I know Jacob brought up the death of her friends, and that is an understandably sore point for her, but I can't risk the treaty over it."_

"_Would you please just let it go Carlisle? Billy's not upset about this so why should you be?" her mother insisted. "It's not like she asked for the same measure of justice Rose did. You let her commit multiple murders . . . remember. Sarah only beat Jake at a silly little game. In fact you should be proud of her for her restraint; a lesser soul would have ripped him to shreds."_

"_Yes, I remember Rose's request for vengeance very well, but those men brutalized and raped her. They left her there bleeding and broken to die," her father defended himself. "This is different Esme. I know they were her friends and I know this is difficult for her, but still it's not the same."_

"_So says you!" Indignation rang in her mother's voice. "Sarah was left alone and helpless out there in the middle of the wilderness because Jacob and the others killed her friends. She nearly died out there, Carlisle, in fact she would have died if the boys hadn't found her and brought her to you." She heard her mother's disgusted sigh. "I'm going to round up Alice and Rose and go watch the dancing. When you've decided to stop acting like a moron, come find me." _

Still later Papa confronted Edward and her brothers. She felt bad for them, they only meant to help her and now they were in trouble. The ring in her father's voice as he laid into Edward told her they were really going to get it.

"_Did you take leave of your senses; she could have killed Jacob and then what? Where would Nessie be without a husband . . . and Abby without a father?" He questioned. "Good God, Edward, you know how emotionally unstable shape-shifters can get when they phase. One little slip and Sarah could have started an all out war!"_

"_You don't give Sarah enough credit Carlisle," Jasper answered. "Do you honestly think she's capable of murder? Oh, sure she has a temper, which one of us doesn't, but Sarah has an off switch, one word . . . __**Cane**__. She exhibited more control in that ring than I've ever seen in anyone, human or vampire."_

"_Yeah, Carlisle, do you really think we'd let her anywhere near Jacob if we thought she'd actually kill him?" Emmett took up. "Dude, no way, cut us a little slack! In fact my job today was to play bouncer. If on the off chance Sarah took things a little too far, I was there to stop it. Trust me; we had it all under control."_

"_Is that so?" her father grumbled. "You were willing to risk everyone's lives on your cocksure ability to stop Sarah if things go out of hand? Well, let me tell you, it never should have gotten that far in the first place!" _

"_In the first place," Edward sounded frighteningly calm. "Sarah should never have had to hear the truth about Vincent and Skeeter from Jacob's wicked insults. She should have heard it from you . . . her __**father**__. In the second place, if Jacob had been anyone else but who he is . . . we wouldn't be having this argument, in fact, she would have easily garnered your blessing to annihilate him. In the third place . . . why are you being such an idiot? I thought you and Alice got a handle on your 'issues' regarding Sarah back in Italy."_

"_Edward Cullen how dare you question . . ." her father started but he didn't get very far._

"_Has it slipped your attention," Edward continued, oblivious to their father's outrage, "that Sarah is the only one among your children who addresses you by the affectionate diminutive __**Papa**__? It's not just a put on Carlisle; I hear her thoughts, in her mind that's who you are . . . you're her Papa. We all love you, but only Sarah's love for you can come remotely close to Esme's total devotion._

"'_God help the idiot who ever tries to take anyone or anything from Sarah ever again, there will be hell and the devil himself to pay behind it!' Did I get it right? I'd hate to have misquoted your thoughts._

"_Stop worrying about the damn treaty, Carlisle, and start worrying about your daughter. Nations and treaties rise and fall, let history judge them for what they're worth and be done with it. Once you manage to lose Sarah's love and respect __**you**__ may be the one facing down the devil and ten thousand demons to get it __**back!**__"_

Her father remained silent after that and he was still silent, lost and brooding inside his own head. Bart stirred in her lap and Sarah shushed him back to sleep. Not since that night in Italy after she saved her son from Alberto and his gang had Papa been so angry with her. Old tension knotted in her stomach, making her feel sick.

Half way home Sarah finally worked up her nerve, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth. "I sorry, Papa, if it would be better, Bart and I could . . ."

She didn't get to finish the statement. Suddenly she felt the car swerve sharply and she realized he'd pulled to the side of the road. She felt her father put the car in park and heard him kill the engine. The knot of tension grew to fill her whole chest. They wouldn't even get home before she got an ear full.

"Carlisle!" her mother exclaimed.

There was a long pause and when her father finally spoke, what he said was unexpected. "Relax please, both of you, its ok. I know what the two of you are thinking,_ 'Here we go again. Carlisle is about to get on his soapbox and start lecturing' _but I'm not," he sighed. "Kitten, hold the apology, I don't need it nor do I deserve it. I, however, do owe you one . . . well, several actually.

"First, I'm sorry about your friends, I know you were very close to them. I'll never forget the night I told you that they'd been killed; the sight of your grief was nearly more than I could bear. I know I lied to you about what happened to them, but at the time there was little else I could say, it was for our mutual safety. However, _**I**_ should have been the one to tell you the truth about what happened to them when we returned home after your aunt's funeral. I chose not to, hoping I would never have to face the grief I saw that night ever again but, in doing so, I failed you miserably in my duty to you as a father.

"Second, I owe you an apology for the incident with Jacob. I was trying to remain level headed . . . maintain an air of neutrality. What you needed, again, was a _father_. One who was willing to defend his daughter's honor and his grandson's life, not a UN diplomat out to maintain his carefully brokered peace agreement. If it means anything to you, I was outraged by Jacob's threats against Bart and for the way he spoke to you. If Jake was anyone else . . . I assure you, I wouldn't have tolerated it.

"And then there's my behavior today, how inexcusable," he paused and she heard him swallow. "I tell you often that I love you, Kitten. My own father wasn't a man who physically or verbally expressed his affection to his family; I've always strived to do better with my children and my mate. What I wouldn't have given to hear those words from his lips . . ." he allowed the statement to die, and then he picked up again. "What I don't often tell you, honey, is how truly proud I am of you . . . how proud I am to have you in this family and how proud I am to call you _my daughter_.

"Today you faced Jacob who, by his own admission, bore responsibility for killing Vincent and Skeeter. You sought and found justice for them. You followed your heart, but you used your head. You honored the memory of your friends and obtained justice in their names in a peaceful manner, without bloodshed. I want you to know . . . that's no small matter.

"You did a good thing today, Sarah, and I've never been prouder of you than I am right now."


	38. Chapter 38

Note:I do not own or have rights to Twilight!

Chapter 37

**Home Is Where the Heart Is**

_I hear the wind across the plain  
A sound so strong - that calls my name  
It's wild like the river - it's warm like the sun  
Ya it's here - this is where I belong_

Under the starry skies - where eagles have flown  
This place is paradise - it's the place I call home  
The moon on the mountains  
The whisper through the trees  
The waves on the water  
Let nothing come between this and me

Cuz everything I want - is everything that's here  
And when we're all together - there's nothing to fear  
And wherever I wander - the one thing I've learned  
It's to here - I will always....always return

_Bryan Adams_

_**This Is Where I Belong**_

_**Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron**_

Carlisle rested in the familiar white plastic chair on Billy's front porch. The brisk November weather brought a refreshing quality to the air, the doctor smiled wistfully, he loved this time of year. Thanksgiving was only a couple of weeks away and Christmas would follow in a little more than a month. This was the season of celebration, when home, hearth, and family meant everything and the Cullen clan was all about family.

Suddenly he found himself trying to take it all in, the smell of the crisp air, the way the late afternoon sun illuminated the evergreens and made the last of the fall foliage seem to come alive with fire, the contented feeling of being in the one places on earth where he truly felt at home. He focused on committing the moment in time and everything about it to the vastness of his memory. He knew all too well what the nostalgic feeling he was experiencing meant, he was grieving already and the family wouldn't be moving until the first of June.

Billy sat next to him on the tiny porch, one hand draped around the neck of a Coke bottle and the other resting on the controls of his new _Hoveround_ power chair. Together they watched Jake's truck pull out of the yard. Carlisle's visit today had been one of both business and pleasure, a well baby check up for Abigail and of course a chance to visit his beloved extended family.

Things were much more peaceful now. There were some tense moments right after Sarah and Jacob's game of tag at the celebration feast, but eventually it all worked out. Jacob even apologized to Sarah for his threats against Bart and for killing her friends. While words wouldn't bring them back, they went a long way towards healing the broken place in his daughter's heart.

In fact, things between Sarah, Jacob, and Bart were so much improved that they were now acting like siblings. Jake, Nessie, and Abby often came by on Saturday afternoons to pick Bart and Sarah up to take them fishing, or to the movies, or some other activity. It was a good thing too, as he would rely heavily on Jake and the Pack to help Ben look after his daughter and grandson in the family's absence. Benjamin was skeptical, and often voiced his concerns to Carlisle over the phone, but he knew his friend would come around in time.

Out of the corner of his eye the doctor watched as his old friend took a long swallow of the soda. Ordinarily, as a physician, he would have scolded a diabetic for guzzling a sugary soft drink, but Billy's blood sugar had dropped suddenly and he needed the boost. Carlisle suspected the elder had miscalculated his insulin dose again, that or he'd missed a meal. Both scenarios, according to Nessie, occurred all too often.

His granddaughter confided in him often concerning Billy's condition, and the things she told him were disturbing. The elder's sugar levels fluctuated wildly, he often missed meals or ate poorly, and Ness had noticed a quarter sized ulcer on Billy's left foot that didn't seem to be healing well.

In an effort to assist, Carlisle looked into finding a good Endocrinologist for Billy. Two problems quickly arose; the first was the location of the nearest specialist, Seattle, though to his college's credit he did make visits three times a month to a satellite clinic in Port Angeles. The second problem was more daunting, Billy didn't have adequate health insurance to cover specialist visits.

"How are the wedding plans coming?" Billy asked after chugging the last of the soda.

He decided against lecturing his friend about not properly managing his medical condition; after all he wasn't the man's doctor. "They're coming along nicely," he answered instead. "We have the chapel and grounds of Kilkenny Castle reserved for April 20th , according to Alice it's supposed to be overcast that day. Sarah's dress is on order and it along with the groom's attire will arrive for a final fitting just after New Year's. The rest of us have our costumes on order.

"Alice and Siobhan are working together to coordinate things on the ground in Ireland. The chapel decorations are being made by a theatrical properties company out of Dublin, the flowers will come locally of course. Liam has contacted a medieval re-enactors group he knows and is arranging for them to perform at the reception on the grounds after the service. Alice said something about a Grand Tournament to be held in honor of the newlyweds."

Billy laughed. "It sounds more like the making of a Hollywood blockbuster than preparations for a wedding."

In the back of his mind Carlisle had to agree. Still, he mused, Sarah was Daddy's little girl and there wasn't much she could ask of him that he wouldn't go out of his way to provide.

"Well, you know anything Alice is involved in is going to be over the top," he dismissed.

"True," the elder nodded. They were quiet for a time, lost in their own respective thoughts and the comfortable silence that exists between good friends.

"Are you still planning to move the family to Oregon?" the elder asked after a time.

"Yes, after the wedding," he replied sadly, "although no one is really looking forward to it. We've been here too long and the move is necessary. Oregon will give us a fresh start while still being close enough in case either Abby or Bart needs my professional services."

"So, you don't really _want_ to move?" Billy asked in a curious tone. For some reason, Carlisle couldn't shake the notion that the elder was up to something.

"Not especially, we like it here," he answered honestly. "There's an old saying: _Home is where the heart is_. My family and I consider this our home. Whenever we must leave this place, we go with great sadness and heavy hearts. We look forward to returning with anticipation and joy."

Billy nodded. He didn't make eye contact with Carlisle but instead the elder gazed out at the open pasture across from his house. By the expression on his face the doctor guessed his old friend's mind was in another time and place.

"You know," Billy began softly. It was the tone of voice Sarah referred to as _the Shaman's Whisper_, now Carlisle understood why. "We have many ancient beliefs, wisdom that has been passed along to us from generation to generation. It is said that when the Creator gave the world to First Man, he wrote the name of home on each one of First Man's three souls so that, no matter where under heaven First Man wandered, he would always know which path to take in order to find the way back."

The doctor smiled, he always enjoyed Billy's storytelling, but today he simply wasn't in the mood. He took a breath and was about to interrupt, but Billy continued speaking in his whispered tone.

"The People, in this way, are tied to the land they call home because the name of it is written within them. Some men have that name of home scratched so faintly on the surface of their souls that the eyes of their heart can't read it and so they become lost in the world and they never find their true home.

"Others, like you and your family, have the name of home gouged as deeply on your souls as a lightening scar on a pine tree. You never forget it, and your spirits are restless and unhappy when you are away. Home calls out to you on the night wind, its voice is as sweet in your ears as a love song, and it draws you more strongly than the blood you so desperately crave." Billy paused and fixed Carlisle with his piercing walnut eyes, power flowed between them and the doctor shuddered. "You are tied to this place, Carlisle Cullen, this is the name the Creator wrote on your souls when he formed you from the mud of the sacred river and breathed life into your nostrils. Stay, you won't find peace or happiness anywhere else."

Carlisle was stunned; all thought suddenly fled his mind like smoke on the wind. Only the power of Billy's wisdom remained to ring through him like the tolling of a great bell.

"That was very profound, Billy, thank you for sharing your wisdom," he finally managed. "But unfortunately, I look 23 and I'm trying to pass for well over 30. It's getting harder by the day. How long can I keep telling my co-workers that right living, a sound diet, and hiking in the mountains is my personal prescription for youthful vim and vigor?"

Billy laughed; it was a pleasant sound that made Carlisle smile. He really liked the Quileute elder and he was truly going to miss his company. Sadly, by the time he and his family moved back to Forks again Billy would most likely be dead. That was one of a number of unpleasant aspects about immortality, you watched those humans you chose to care deeply about pass on.

"To stay any longer, old friend, would risk exposure and, as you know, exposure means death . . . either ours or the human who finds out about us."

The elder sighed. "But let's say for a moment that you didn't have to leave. What if there was no risk of exposure . . . would you stay?"

_Frivolity_, he chided himself, to entertain such thoughts was a fool's game . . . one that always ended in tragedy. Only the Volturi had managed to find a permanent home and this came at a great price. The triad lived under a self-imposed imprisonment behind the walls of their palace; they didn't even venture out to hunt for themselves. Carlisle couldn't imagine such a life, he and his family loved people and enjoyed their _'human'_ interactions.

Still, he felt he owed the elder a measure of honesty.

"Hypothetically speaking," Carlisle began slowly, "if it were possible for us to stay, with absolutely no risk of exposure and no danger to us or to the human populace . . . would we stay?" He paused briefly to allow the full scope of the fantasy to play out, if only for a moment, in his vivid imagination. "Yes, Billy, I think my family and I would like that very much. Sadly however, it is impossible; we will never have such a utopian existence. The best we can hope for is to be able to return here as often as we can, and to enjoy our time while we're here."

"Maybe it's not so impossible." The elder turned to him then, a wide grin spanned his face.

"Billy, I can't . . ."

"Hold on now," the elder interrupted him. "How about hearing an old man out first before you call me a fool and say no?"

"I would never be so disrespectful as to call you a fool, Billy," Carlisle informed him and then nodded his willingness to listen.

He watched the elder gather himself before speaking, "We're pretty self-sufficient here on the reservation." Deep pride rang in the elder's voice and radiated from the smile he wore. "We have our own schools, our own fire and rescue, we even have our own Sheriff but he's only part time. In spite of all that, we're still missing something.

"Every time a little one gets sick, every time a mother goes into labor, every time I need to see the doc about my diabetes, we have to load up and drive all the way to Forks or Port Angeles for medical attention. The tribal council has decided enough is enough, we have secured a federal grant to build a small hospital and clinic here on the reservation."

"Congratulations, that's wonderful, Billy." Carlisle couldn't be happier for the tribe; they'd been in need of such a facility for some time. "But, I still don't see what that has to do with my family and me."

Billy shook his head and laughed. "You're not usually this thick, friend. Alright, instead of dropping hints, I'll get right to the point, how does the title, Chief of Staff, strike you?"

He didn't know what to say, that was twice Billy had managed to leave him speechless. "Well, I wasn't aware that this was a job interview. If I had known, I'd have worn my suit."

"I'm not joking," the elder insisted. "Look, I think we can help each other. You know our secret and we know yours, so our relationship is bomb proof. You and your family like it here and you don't want to leave. You _belong_ here.

"We're going to build a hospital and we're going to need a doctor, so you take the job and move the family to a nice remote corner of the reservation and relax.

"It's perfect for both of us, especially with so many of our young people manifesting the shape-shifter trait; it wouldn't do to have some busy body outside doctor come in here. Before you know it, we'd all end up as guinea pigs at some secret government research lab.

"That would be bad for you too, especially when those government white coats start poking around into what causes our traits to manifest in the first place."

Billy was right, at first the scientist would be fascinated with just researching the shape-shifter trait at the surface, but eventually they would delve deeper. That would expose the Vampire Nation . . . provided Aro let it get that far. He wouldn't put it past the Volturi leader to have the entire Quileute tribe eradicated to protect the vampire's secret. Their leader would probably send out half the Guard to massacre the Quileute and take out the scientist holding them as well. Nessie, Abigail and Jacob would certainly be among them.

"So what do you say, Carlisle, do you want a safe permanent home badly enough to put up with lousy hours, an insane work load, and a pack of smelly dogs?"

"Well, I'm not sure," he confessed honestly. Billy's offer was humbling. "Are you sure the tribe will be ok with _the cold ones_ living in their midst?"

"Oh please, you've been living in our midst off and on for generations. Besides," Billy paused and turned to look at him again. "I meant what I said at your house the day Abby was born. The Creator has tied our two families together. I can't explain it, but it started with Nessie and Jake and now it has grown to include Bart and Abby. For whatever reason, we're meant to walk this stretch of the Earth Path side by side." Then he extended his right hand towards Carlisle. "I offer my hand to you in friendship, Carlisle Cullen, and I would be honored to call you my brother, in this life and in the next."

He looked at the elder's worn and weathered hand. Ordinarily he avoided physical contact with humans, even his patients, if he could. What would Billy think, he wondered as he reached to accept the old man's hand, would his icy touch make him pull back in shock? To Carlisle's surprise, when his palm touched Billy's, the elder grasped his hand without hesitation and with more force than expected.

"I accept your hand of friendship, Billy Black, and I would be honored to call you my brother, in this life and in the next." Carlisle answered the oath. He had many friends among his own kind, a few acquaintances among the humans, and of course his wife and children. Now he added a brother to his growing family.

Billy cleared his throat and the doctor let the man's hand go.

"Sorry," the doctor apologized as he realized his touch must be getting uncomfortable. He sighed contentedly. "You realize, of course, that before I can officially accept your generous offer of employment I have to consult the family."

The elder nodded, "It's more than an offer of employment you know, it's an offer of sanctuary," he insisted and then smiled again, "but I understand, you have your own tribal council too. Keep me posted."

* * * *

Carlisle slowly descended the stairs; he could hear his family gathered in the dining room for council. He was both excited and overwhelmed by Billy's offer. A permanent home was something he'd always dreamed of, especially here, where the weather was perfect for them and the game was plentiful. Never once in those dreams had he expected that the blessing of sanctuary would come from those who had so long counted him as an enemy.

He had tried to mentally anticipate everyone's reaction to his news as he rehearsed how he would make the announcement. Esme would be happy, she had confided in him several times that she wished they could stay here forever. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of leaving Jacob, Nessie, Abigail, Sarah, Benjamin, and Bart here. It was like losing half her family in a single blow. He could almost picture her excited smile and feel her arms as they encircled his neck.

Then there was Sarah, she would be very happy. Since they began discussing the move to Oregon, she had been glum faced and sullen. He did his best to assure her that everything would be fine and that the family would visit as often as possible, but it didn't do much good. According to Edward, in her mind she was losing her family all over again.

He repressed an irritated growl as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Cane's massacre of her birth family really did a number on poor Sarah's mind. There were days when Carlisle heartily wished he could resurrect the filthy monster just so he could kill him all over again.

The reactions of the rest of his children were a bit more difficult to anticipate. Edward would no doubt still worry about exposure. Over the years he had picked up on Carlisle's meticulous nature when it came to the family's safety. Bella would probably like the idea of remaining close to her daughter and granddaughter, but with her husband on high alert most of the time, it would be a guarded joy.

By now, no doubt Alice would have foreseen something and he hoped to avail himself of her insight, unless the Quileute involvement clouded her vision. He couldn't say Rose would be thrilled, in spite of her warmer relationship with Jacob these days she still didn't care for the Dogs. That only left Emmett and Jasper. Em would most likely follow Rose's lead, whatever that would be, even if it wasn't what he wanted. Jasper would do whatever it took to protect Alice and make her happy.

He entered the dining room feeling even more confused that he had before leaving his study. All eyes turned to him; they followed his movement as he approached the table. Half way to his chair he stopped. His eyes paused on their circuit around the mahogany table as he spied something that concerned him. Sarah was sitting between Esme and Alice, her head was down and she was trembling. He cast a question glance at Edward.

"_What's the matter with her?"_ Carlisle thought the question knowing his son would hear.

"The usual," Edward answered with a sigh.

Instead of taking his place at the head of the table Carlisle came to stand behind Sarah, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. Why did his youngest always assume she was in some sort of trouble, or worse, that the family's present predicament was somehow her fault?

"Relax Kitten," he whispered and then bent to kiss the top of her head. "These meetings aren't always about you."

"Yeah, it just seems that way," Emmett took up. "You know, when I first joined the family, it felt like we had Family Council every week to discuss all the new ways I found to screw up."

"That's because we did," Edward taunted. "Sometimes it was twice a week."

"Boys, please," Carlisle sighed. "This isn't about Sarah and no one is in trouble."

After giving his daughter's shoulders a reassuring squeeze, he turned to take his place. While he would have preferred to stand, he took his seat hoping it would set an air of relaxed calm.

"Would you please tell us what this _is_ about then?" Esme insisted. "Sarah isn't the only one who's all nerves; the suspense is starting to get to the rest of us too."

"All in good time, my love," Carlisle gave his wife a warm smile. He turned once more to Edward, but his son only shrugged and crossed his arms. No help there.

He shifted his gaze to Alice who seemed preoccupied with watching Jasper for some reason. If she knew anything it didn't show and she wasn't telling.

After drumming his fingers on the table for a few minutes as he considered how to proceed, he took a deep breath and decided to start off the same way Billy had.

"If it were possible, hypothetically speaking of course, for us to remain in this area indefinitely, never have to move again, how would you all feel about that?"

"Four more years of Forks High, gross, I don't think so," Rose grumped. "I don't know who got on my nerves more in that place, the jerk off students or the magnificently mediocre teachers."

He had to laugh; each of his children had enough combined academic experience to teach at any Ivy League school in the country. "Just to sweeten the deal, what if I added, no more high school . . . ever?"

"What would we do with ourselves without high school?" Emmett asked. "Dude, it's like, what we do, you know, you're a doctor, Esme's a homemaker and part time architect . . . we're professional students."

"Professional students?" Carlisle murmured, what an odd way for his children to view themselves. He always thought of them in other terms, ones based on their gifts, talents, and personalities.

Edward, for example, was a leader, a musician extraordinary, and an up and coming young doctor with considerable promise. Bella had a love for children and books and he always saw her as either a teacher or a librarian.

Alice, in his mind, had the potential to be a force in the fashion world, a designer perhaps with her own exclusive label. He could see Jasper at his wife's side as a manager or perhaps even acting as her lawyer, he would always protect her.

Emmett and Rose, he could envision them doing something with cars . . . maybe building race cars and having their own racing team or perhaps building those specialty vehicles for really wealthy clients. The show _West Coast Choppers_ suddenly flashed through his mind, it was one of Em and Rose's favorites, and he could see his son and daughter being right at home in an environment like that.

"Do you actually like being professional students?" Carlisle asked. He hadn't considered this before and it troubled him.

In fact, he hadn't realized his children so closely identified who they were with their current status as students. But why shouldn't they, after all, didn't he identify himself by his career, _Carlisle Cullen, MD_. That thought frightened him; it was as if his beloved children were stuck in some hideous time warp that they would never escape from. The whole high school thing was supposed to be a cover for them, not a permanent institution; he wanted more out of life for his children than this.

"It's ok," Jasper finally replied. The answer was accompanied by a surge of warm fuzziness that coursed through his mind, obviously it was meant to make him feel better about things and therefore drop the matter.

"But?" he coaxed as he shook off Jasper's efforts, after all, there was always a _but_.

"Well," Jasper began a little shyly, the boy's attempt at soothing the matter away hadn't worked and now he was forced to answer. "It does get somewhat tiresome at times. No offence, Carlisle, I know you do your best for us, but I'm old enough to be a great great grandfather to the oldest _teacher _over there and they treat me like a snot nosed little kid. I've been in the military, I've had men under my command, and I've fought and watched men die. In my mind, I'm an adult and sometimes it really burns my biscuits to have to sit there and take all their mess."

"And then there are the looks and whispered remarks," Rose took up. "The first few months at a new school I'm the hottest real estate in town. Every _boy_ wants me, and every _girl_ wants to be me. I've had boys practically walk into a bank of hall lockers while ogling me, but that soon fades. When it does, I . . . well; we . . . go from being objects of intense fascination to being objects of equally intense scorn."

"Yeah Carlisle," Emmett chimed in behind his mate. "At least with your job at the hospital the humans around you come to respect you at some point for your skills and abilities. _'Man, that Dr. Cullen, he's one super weird dude, but did you see how he saved that kid's life. That was so totally_ _awesome!'_

"No one ever really respects us; they just leave us alone . . . the school freak squad. We're so far down on the social ladder; the dork that comes to school dressed like Gandalf and speaking in Elvish has it better than we do. What I wouldn't give for an ounce of real respect."

That was a real eye opener. "What about the rest of you?"

A consensus of disgust rose among his children. Only Sarah said nothing, she was too new to this life to voice a complaint.

"It doesn't matter, Carlisle," Edward brought the table back to order. "Whether we like high school, _which we don't_, or we hate it, _which we do_, its part of keeping up appearances. We really don't have any choice."

_No choice_. Hadn't he always told them that, in any situation, there was always a choice, that their very way of life was a matter of choice? Now he was hearing his children basically saying to him that they were resigned to the fate of being trapped in high school until doomsday, and that there was no other alternative. They had given up _any_ and _every_ aspiration to something better for themselves. A drastic change was definitely in order.

"There's always a choice, Edward," he encouraged gently, "which is why I've called this meeting. We have a major decision to make." He paused and waited for their focus. When he had their undivided attention he continued. "Today, after Nessie and Abigail's appointment, I had a long talk with Billy. It seems the Quileute have secured a federal grant to build a small hospital and clinic in La Push. They're going to need a doctor and Billy approached me to take the job as Chief of Staff.

"And after what I've just heard, I'm inclined to adjourn this meeting right now and take the offer without further consideration. Obviously the six of you need more than just a change of venue, you need a complete change of pace."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**FYI: those of you looking for poor neglected Benjamin; he comes back in the next chapter. :D**

**Blue is feeling a little sad though, three more chapters after this one and the epilogue and I'm done with TNP 2. Yes, they are already written, but I have them in revision.**


	39. Chapter 39

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!

Chapter 38

**I'll Be Home for Christmas**

**______________________________________________________________________________________________**

**Christmas Pipes:**

_Christmas pipes, Christmas pipes  
Calling us home on Christmas night  
Call us from far, call us from near  
Oh play me your Christmas pipes_

Christmas bells, Christmas bells  
Over the hills and over the dells  
Ringing out bright, ringing out clear  
Oh ring me your Christmas bells

Christmas strings, Christmas strings  
Playing the peace that Christmas brings  
Fiddle and bow, gentle and low  
Oh play me your Christmas strings

Christmas choir, Christmas choir  
Christmas carols 'round Christmas fire  
Holy night, angels on high  
Round up your Christmas choir

Christmas band, Christmas band  
You're waiting for me with your Christmas band  
Cymbal and drum, rattle and hum  
March out your Christmas band

(1st verse)

Good to be home to your Christmas  
Good to be home to your Christmas  
Good to be home to your Christmas pipes

_Words and music by Brendan Graham_

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Christmas Eve dawned windy and cold. Carlisle stepped out onto the front porch and inhaled the frigid morning air. A fresh blanket of new snow covered the ground and clung to the trees, dark snow clouds loomed on the horizon, several more feet would fall before this time tomorrow.

Behind him, the house smelled of cinnamon, gingerbread, and evergreen. The sound of Esme humming _Oh, Holy Night_ as she busied herself with Christmas decorations made him smile with satisfaction. Her perfect voice coupled with the beauty of the song was a treat to be relished. Unfortunately, his smile was soon replaced with a concerned scowl as he spied his youngest perched in her favorite rocking chair.

Poor Sarah, she was missing her mate in the worst possible way and Carlisle knew it. Though the two of them spoke nightly by phone, she hadn't seen Ben since the night they patched things up. The absence was starting to take its toll . . . on both of them.

Though his daughter didn't know it, he and Ben also talked regularly. Benjamin was missing her just as badly, in fact, the furniture industry in New York was experiencing a boom from replacing all the stuff Ben destroyed during his rages.

His smile returned when he looked down at his watch, the surprise that the family had been keeping from its two newest members was well on its way. In fact Ben's flight would be landing in Seattle within the hour. His friend insisted that Sarah and Bart know nothing, it was part of a series of 'gifts' he had in store for his mate. The trip was also a test, according to Ben, to see how his control was coming along. Carlisle knew everything would be fine; he'd already consulted Alice on the matter.

"No worries," his daughter purred with delight. "Sarah's going to absolutely _love_ their new . . . oops, blabber mouth me . . . I almost spoiled the big reveal. Can't have that, now can we?"

Alice would say nothing more on the matter except that it would be nice having Sarah, Ben, and Bart close by when the rest of them moved into their new home on the reservation.

After Sarah's wedding, the rest of the family would be moving to Oregon for two years while the Quileute built the new hospital and a house for his family. Once construction was complete, everyone would move back and be one big happy family again.

From within the house, he heard Esme calling the family together to trim the tree. This was one of several Cullen Family Christmas Eve traditions. Having a tree was one Carlisle had started his first Christmas with Edward. They had no ornaments that year as he had picked up the pathetic little tree on a whim as he made his way home from the hospital. They had then spent the daylight hours making paper ornaments for it and singing carols. It had been the first family Christmas that Carlisle had experienced since awakening to this life and he would never forget it.

"Come on, Carlisle," his wife called impatiently. "You and Sarah are holding up the festivities. We have cookies to bake too, you know."

Almost twenty dozen cookies to be precise, which his children would then parcel off into little bags with bows. Around six o'clock in the evening the family would load up and take the cookies down to the hospital and pass them around on the pediatric floor and the ER. Each child would receive cookies and a small present. The trunk of his Mercedes was already loaded down like Santa's sleigh.

"Come on, Grandpa." Carlisle looked down to find Bart tugging at his shirt sleeve. "Let's get Mama and go inside."

He couldn't help his smile as he took hold of Sarah's elbow and eased her from the rocker. "Come, Kitten, time to deck the halls," he whispered.

* * * *

Who said there was no such thing as magic in the world, Sarah thought to herself as she sat on the sofa with Bart? The boy wiggled excitedly in her lap. In the background, the radio played _Christmas Pipes_ by Celtic Woman and a fire crackled merrily in the living room's stone fireplace. The entire house was filled with the fragrant aromas of the holiday season, fresh pine, cinnamon, gingerbread, and apples.

Sarah doubted that even the likes of Currier & Ives and Norman Rockwell could have envisioned a more quintessential American Christmas than the one that took place in the Cullen home.

Her mother was passing out ornaments to them, very special ornaments, and as she went she explained their meaning to the family's two newest members. It was Esme's personal project. Each Cullen had a handmade ornament crafted in their honor by the matron of the house. These always went on the tree first, after the lights were strung, as according to family tradition; they went in the same exact spot every year.

"This one is for you, Bart." The flutes in her mother's voice twittered as she placed an object in Bart's hands. "And this one is for you, Sarah."

The orb that came to rest in her hand was slightly heavier than she had expected and it was covered with raised relief work. She grinned broadly as her sensitive fingers explored the wondrously intricate surface. There were two hearts, one on either side, which she noticed first. Inside each heart were the faces of lions, a male with a flowing mane on one side and a female with a little cub on the other.

"I took a regular glass ball and covered it with paper mache," her mother told her proudly. "I'm nowhere near the sculptor you are, but . . ."

"It's beautiful, Mama, thank you." It was her first Christmas with a real family again, everything was beautiful . . . sheer perfection.

One at a time each family member put their ornament on the tree. They proceeded in the order that they joined the family with Papa and Edward going first. When it came to Sarah's turn, Bart guided her to the tree. She felt around until she found a spot on the right side that suited her and fastened the ornament to the branch. Bart hung his not too far from hers.

When they finished decorating the tree, the family drifted toward the kitchen to bake Christmas cookies. The mood was festive as Mama passed out the tasks. Sarah was busily sifting flour with Bart when someone knocked at the front door.

"I wonder who that could be?" her father mumbled, a happy tune played in the bells of his voice. She focused on his footfalls as he headed for the front door and heard the knob turn and the door open and then things went very quiet.

She listened as two sets of footsteps crossed the living room then suddenly the house was filled with the melodic sound of the saxophone as Ben's voice rose in song.

"On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me: A crawfish in a fig tree."

Everyone erupted in thunderous laughter. Sarah suddenly found herself embraced from behind by Ben's strong arms and a kiss was planted on the crown of her head.

"You didn't honestly think I would let the holiday season pass without paying my mate and child a visit, did you?" he whispered into her hair.

"Dad!" Bart squealed with delight.

"How's my boy, have you been good so Santa will bring you lots of presents?" she heard her mate ask as he lifted the boy into his embrace. Bart started calling Ben _Dad _after his last visit, the sound of the name as it fell from Bart's lips always choked her up a little.

Sarah was overwhelmed, she didn't know whether to sob or shout. Ben's visit was totally unexpected and if her family knew anything about it they had managed to keep the fact a strict secret. Finally, just to break the awkwardness of the moment, she broke into song, picking up the next verse of the carol.

"On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Two voodoo dolls and a crawfish in a fig tree."

Then Ben answered in his booming voice, "On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Three stuffed shrimp, two voodoo dolls, and a crawfish in a fig tree."

"Wait just a minute, that's not how that song goes," Emmett complained.

"Actually, Em, that really is a song," Jasper came to Sarah's defense. "Haven't you heard _The Cajun Twelve Days of Christmas _before?"

"No, I haven't," Emmett fired back, "but I would greatly appreciate it if Ben wouldn't favor us with any more of his musical styling. I have sensitive ears and he sounds like a love sick bull moose when he sings."

"Really?" Ben's voice grinned in answer. She was surprised, but glad when her mate didn't sound angry at the unveiled insult. Teasing was Emmett's way of showing his affection. "Imagine that, and all this time I was considering auditioning for _American_ _Idol_. Thank you, Emmett, you just saved me from a very embarrassing drubbing by Simon Cowell."

* * * *

They returned from the hospital around 10 pm. Bart fell asleep in Sarah's lap as they rode home in the back seat of Papa's car. The boy thoroughly enjoyed himself helping hand out cookies and presents. Mama managed to sneak a small electric keyboard into the hospital and she convinced Edward to favor them with Christmas carols.

In all it turned out to be the best Christmas Eve that Sarah could remember . . . ever!

The only thing that she found even slightly disappointing was that Ben had chosen not to come to the hospital with them, but she understood why. He was still new to the Vegan lifestyle and he feared the strong smell of fresh human blood might cause him to slip. He promised to be waiting for her when they arrived back home. With her mother's gracious consent, Ben was planning to stay for two weeks.

When the car pulled to a stop, she listened as her father got out and walked around to the passenger's side. It was then that she noticed for the first time that her radar was strangely silent. She knew Ben was close by, his personal scent filled the air, but the tingling of electricity that danced over her skin in announcement of his presence was gone. Like all who followed her father's way of life, her radar couldn't detect him.

"Are we home?" Bart asked sleepily as the cold night air rushed in through the car's open door.

"We most certainly are." Her father answered as he helped the groggy boy out of her lap. "Do you think you can stay awake for one more family tradition?"

"Sure Grandpa," Bart answered. Sarah hoped it was a short tradition, she could hear the sleep in his voice. "What is it?"

While Papa helped her and Mama from the car he explained. "Every Christmas Eve when we get back from the hospital, we gather in the living room around the tree and everyone opens one present."

"But Grandpa," Bart sounded more than a little confused. "There aren't any presents under the tree."

"Really, are you sure?" Mock surprise played in Papa's voice.

Sarah wrapped her hand around her father's elbow as he led her and her mother across the snow covered front yard toward the house now. Behind her she heard the sound of Edward's Volvo pull to a stop and her siblings pile out.

"You know Bart, as a multiple centenarian, I do get a little befuddled sometimes, but I could swear I remember presents being under that tree." She could tell by the bright sound of the bells that her father was playing an elaborate game with her son. "Perhaps you'd better go and check it again."

She listened as her son dashed across the front yard, snow crunched under his boots as he went. Then she heard him bound up the front steps. The door opened and Benjamin greeted Bart with warm affection. Her hearing remained fixed on her son as his footsteps clattered on the hardwood floor.

"Santa came!" Bart let out a jubilant shout and her father chuckled softly.

"There weren't any presents under the tree before we left, were there Papa?"

"No. Ben brought them down from the attic while we were gone," a smile played in his voice, "but don't tell Bart that."

Once they were all gathered around the tree, they each selected one present to open.

"Might I do the honor of picking your gift from under the tree for you, Milady?" Ben asked.

There was something almost dishonest in the way Ben asked the question, but Sarah played along anyway and nodded. Moments later a small rectangular box rested in her lap.

As with the special ornaments, the gifts were opened in the order that members had joined the Cullen family. When it came to Sarah's turn she nervously untied the ribbon and took the lid off the box.

A generous amount of tissue paper filled the inside of the box and her sensitive fingers felt through it until they hit on something slender and metallic. She clutched the object feeling every aspect of it as she tried to identify what it might be. At first she thought it was a small fountain pen until she noticed the ring on one end and a flag-shaped tab with a notch cut into it on the other.

"What is it, Sarah?" Rose asked anxiously.

"I don't know." She answered, it was quite a puzzle.

"May I?" Her father offered. She held out her hand and felt her father take what she was holding. "Well, bless me; I haven't seen one of these in a long time. It's an antique skeleton key, most likely a door key by the size and shape of it."

Why would someone give her an old door key she wondered? Her face must have mirrored her internal conflict. To her disgust, the confused expression made Ben laugh. She growled faintly.

"Oh, come now," Ben soothed gently. "Don't get vexed, Little Love, the key is only a proxy for your real present . . . it was far too large to fit under the tree."

"My real present?" she questioned, trying to sound innocent. "You bought me a car?" She was fishing. "You know, I already have one."

"No." Ben dismissed with a chuckle. "That would be a ridiculous thing for me to buy you. Think larger . . . much, much larger."

"Ooh, Dad," Bart gasped. "Did you buy Mom . . . a house?"

"Outstanding, Bart, my boy, I think you must be the smartest eleven-year-old I know," He encouraged their son. "I closed on the house two weeks ago. It's not far from here, along the coast, south of La Push and the Quileute territory, but the acreage borders on their land."

"A house . . . and acreage?" Sarah squeaked. She was stunned beyond words.

The sound of Ben's warm laughter filled the house. "Of course, my love, we must have somewhere to live, and . . . um, raise our family once we're married. You're going to love our new home, Sarah; I stumbled on it quite by accident.

"I was out driving aimlessly when I visited Seattle a few months back. I was torn and trying to decide if I should come see you and end that ugly three week ordeal. You remember, don't you?"

How could she forget the worst three weeks ever? She nodded.

"Well, I happened to turn down this almost nonexistent dirt road. It was almost twilight at the time and when the winding rut-filled road finally broke from the forest, there she was, sitting on a little hill with the backdrop of the setting sun and the ocean behind her. A beautiful Victorian lady in all her lace and finery plopped down in the middle of absolute nowhere. She reminded me of Little Miss Muffet perched on her tuffet."

"We're going to live inside an old lady?" Bart asked sleepily.

"Don't be silly, of course not, my dear boy." Ben chuckled, she heard her mate ruff the hair on Bart's head. "It's a house . . . a Victorian style lighthouse to be precise, on three hundred acres of very isolated land."

"How did you manage to pull that off?" her mother asked. Sarah could hear the notes of admiration in her mother's voice. "Victorian lighthouses are rare, most of the surviving ones belong to the government or some historical society, and they're preserved as national treasures."

"Well, that's the thing you see." Ben was in his element now, telling the tale of his most recent conquest. "During my seclusion over these past several months, I researched the land and its history. I could find no mention of the house; in fact the records indicate the original owner of the land was a Captain Elijah Emerson, a retired maritime officer, and his wife Constance. They purchased the land in 1887. A number of different owners have held the property over the years, but the records make no indication of there ever having been a structure of any sort built on that spot or in that area."

"A lost lighthouse," Esme sighed. "Incredible, what I wouldn't give to have made a find like that."

"There is one small problem," Ben began and then paused. "Our lovely lady of light has seen better days. It seems she's lived alone on that windswept hill for some time, with no family to love her and no one to upkeep her.

"In short, Mother, she is in desperate need of a complete makeover and I can think of no one more capable of returning her to her former glory than the renowned Esme Cullen."

Her mother laughed. "You know Benjamin, while flattery will get you _almost _everywhere with me, it was completely unnecessary. I would be more than happy, honored actually, to renovate your historic lighthouse."

"Excellent," Ben sounded pleased. "We'll all drive out to the house later this week, weather permitting of course."

* * * *

Sarah sat on the edge of Bart's bed listening to the steady shallow rhythm of her son's breathing as he slept. He drifted off as Ben finished telling him the story of _Sir Beaumains the Kitchen Knight. _Bart seemed to love knight stories just as much as he loved dragon stories and, she had to admit, she enjoyed the story herself. The cadence of her mate's voice, the old world way that he had with the English language, and the magic of King Arthur stories always combined to weave their unbreakable spell.

"He's so peaceful when he sleeps," Ben whispered, "I envy him. Sleep is the only habit from my human life that I truly miss."

Sarah had to agree, sleep was a blissful state that most humans took for granted. "He's had a busy day; I'm surprised he stayed awake for your story."

"Believe me, Milady, he fought sleep with the mighty valor of a true warrior in order to hear the end of it," Ben informed her. "And speaking of busy days, have you had an opportunity to hunt today?"

Sarah shook her head. "Papa was going to take me later."

"Would you mind terribly if I took you hunting instead?" Ben asked. "I have something I want to show you."

"The house?" she asked hopefully.

"Not yet my love, but soon," he soothed. "I had something else in mind tonight."

After telling her parents where they were off to, Sarah allowed Ben to lead her into the woods beyond the house. She ran through the forest following behind him, listening to the snow crunch under his feet as they went. When they were several miles from the house, Ben stopped.

"This should be far enough." He told her confidently.

Far enough for what she wondered. Tuning her ears she located four deer but they were six miles to the north of their current location.

"Sarah, I want you to _see_ something." His hands griped her shoulders lightly as he spoke. "I'm going to step a few paces away from you and turn my back to you so you can phase. When you're finished tell me."

"Ben, I don't have any extra clothes with me," she protested. "If I phase, I'll have to return home in lion form. What if Bart were to wake up and accidently see me?"

Her mate's warm chuckle echoed off the trees, filling the air around them with its rich musical sound. "Little love, we're all alone in the middle of the forest, there's not another soul for miles. Take off your clothes before you phase, then you'll have them to put back on again when you're ready to phase back."

The thought of being so . . . _exposed_, even in the middle of nowhere with no one around to see, made her insides cringe. Her face must have showed her horror because she suddenly found herself wrapped in Ben's comforting arms.

"Milady is a woman of modesty," he whispered into her hair as he planted a kiss on the crown of her head. "A most admirable trait to be sure, but I assure you, my love, none but God shall see thee."

Then he took a step back from her and kissed her forehead before turning and walking away. She listened to his footfalls until he stopped.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" she called after him.

"I've waited months to show you this, Little Love. I want you to _see_ it with your own two eyes."

Her hands trembled as she hastily shucked off her clothes. The thirteen degree weather wasn't to blame for her shaking, it was all nerves. Ben called her a modest woman, but that was putting it mildly. Alice once jokingly accused her of being a modern day puritan for her conservative fashion choices. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be striping down to her birthday suite in the middle of a Washington forest, she would have laughed and called them crazy.

Once she was completely undressed, she closed her sightless eyes and focused her mind on phasing, imagining every part of her body changing from humanoid to lion. The whole process took less than a minute and when she opened her eyes again, she observed Benjamin standing some twenty odd feet away with his back turned to her.

"_All done,"_ she projected into his mind.

He turned around slowly and smiled when he saw her. No longer did she read shock in his expression when he saw her in her phased form, but she suspected the sight of her as an enormous predatory feline still gave him pause.

"Come here to me, Little Love," he beckoned and Sarah happily complied, trotting over to him and sitting at his feet.

"Now, stand up on your hind legs and put your forepaws on my shoulders so you can look into my eyes."

She did as he requested, resting her massive front paws on Ben's broad shoulders. _"Dancing lessons, Milord?"_ she giggled against his mind.

"While I'm sure Milady is as light as air on her feet and a fast study, alas no, perhaps another time." He grinned at her then, his voice dropped and he whispered. "Look into my eyes love, and tell me what you see."

At first she didn't notice it, though it was as plain as the full moon that hung in the cold December sky. Then it struck her and her chest ached with the desire to throw her arms around Benjamin and hug him until forever came.

"_Oh, Ben, they're so beautiful!"_ she sent as she continued to gaze into his eyes.

She had always found his eyes gorgeous, but the limped pools that mirrored his soul, which had once been the color of a fine red wine, were now the most beautiful shade of deep amber.

"According to your father, they'll continue to lighten with time," he assured her. "Eventually they'll turn honey-gold like everyone else in your family. I could have simply told you I suppose . . . but I wanted you to _see _for yourself.

"A very Merry Christmas to you . . . my, Little Love," he whispered.

* * * *

_Tiny Tim: "God Bless Us, Every One!" _

_Charles Dickens_

_**A Christmas Carol**_

_(Sorry, I couldn't resist. Best regards, Blueroan. )_

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** If you're curious and want an idea of what Sarah's new home will look like once Esme is done restoring it, then Google _Hereford Inlet Lighthouse_ or _Point_ _Fermin Lighthouse_. Both of them are excellent examples of beautiful Victorian lighthouses. I found pictures of them on Flickr. You can also find articles about these two historic structures as well as lighthouses in general on Wikipedia.

You can also find an animated version of _The Cajun Twelve Days of Christmas_ on You Tube.

Next chapter . . . the wedding!


	40. Chapter 40

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters.

Chapter 39

**May God Bless This Couple Who Marry Today**

**____________________________________________________________________________________________**

_**Irish Wedding Song**_

_There they stand _

_Hand in hand_

_They've exchanged wedding bands_

_Today is the day they seal all their plans_

_And all we who love them just want to say_

_May God bless this couple who marry today._

_In good times _

_In bad times _

_In sickness and health_

_May they know that riches aren't needed for wealth_

_Help them face problems they'll meet on their way_

_Oh God bless this couple who marry today_

_May they find_

_Peace of mind_

_Comes to all who are kind_

_May the hard times ahead become triumphs behind_

_May God give them children to brighten each day_

_Oh God bless this family that started today_

_As they go_

_May they know_

_A real love that will show_

_And as life gets shorter may their feelings grow_

_Wherever they travel, wherever they stay_

_May God bless this couple who marry today_

_**Irish folk song**_

______________________________________________________________

Butterflies danced in Sarah's stomach and her head spun like a top. She was standing alone in a quiet room overlooking the gardens of Kilkenny Castle. Her mother and sisters had gone off to get themselves ready for the big day. The wedding was a costumed affair and the entire family and wedding party would be in period medieval attire.

Even the priest, Father Eugene O'Connor, a vampire and good friend of Papa's, agreed to play along. According to Rose, he had showed up to the church about an hour ago wearing traditional black robes of a medieval man of the cloth.

To soothe her frayed nerves, Sarah focused her hearing beyond the window, listening to the light breeze stirring through the trees. Though the setting was pure tranquility, if she were still human, she would have been sick or passed out by now. But she wasn't human; more than a year had passed since that frightening day when Cane had changed her.

A year had also passed since her beloved Benjamin had proposed to her. Their courtship had gotten off to a rocky start, but now, as she prepared to enter the next phase of her life . . . with Ben as her husband, they were as firmly bound together in love as her mother and father or any of her paired siblings.

Sarah let out a contented sigh as she thought back over the past year. She had the most outstanding family that anyone could ever want. Carlisle and Esme, her Mama and Papa, loved her completely and doted on her always. Her brothers Edward, Emmett, and Jasper were her constant and vigilant protectors, a girl couldn't ask for better brothers. Her sisters Alice, Rose, and Bella were her best friends and most trusted confidants. She had spent many a long night . . . and long shopping trips, exchanging girlish secrets with them.

And then, of course, there was Benjamin, her life mate, and Bart, the child of her heart. Just thinking about those two made her chest swell with pride and love. It was all so overwhelming and she wished for tears to express the depth of her joy, but she knew those tears were forever lost to her.

Soft soothing music floated from the chapel of the castle, Johann Pachelbel's _Canon in D Major_, played on the harpsichord by Edward. Bart was accompanying him on the cello. Her brother had actually written the particular arrangement they were playing himself. Uncle and nephew had practiced the piece diligently for over a month, until it was perfect. It sounded absolutely magnificent and it made Sarah's heart soar.

She had requested that Edward play for her on this most special of days and he had agreed. Unfortunately, he was only able to play a few selections prior to the ceremony. Sadly, he wouldn't be playing the traditional wedding march as he was Benjamin's best man.

Aunty Siobhan had arranged to have a group of musicians out of Dublin who specialized in Medieval and Renaissance music to play during the service. Her aunty would be singing the Irish Wedding Song during the lighting of the unity candle . . . the matriarch of the Irish family had insisted on it.

"Someone must sing the Wedding Song," her aunty had insisted when they arrived. "It insures good luck darlin', your big day wouldn't be complete without it."

Sarah had started calling the matronly leader of the Irish 'family' _aunty_ when they had parted company in London after her adventure in Italy. It was a southernism. Where she grew up, every unrelated female who you felt a close familial bond with was your aunty. To her surprise Jasper, a fellow southerner, also picked up the practice and happily called the woman by her new honorific kinship title.

This day would be nothing short of perfect; Alice and her aunt had determined it would be so. Siobhan helped make all the local arrangements, serving as a sort of liaison on the ground in Ireland. Alice told her what she wanted and Aunty made it happen.

Not only was Edward a part of the wedding party, but Emmett, Jasper, and Liam served as Ben's groomsmen. Bella was Sarah's maid of honor; this was decided by Alice who wanted to try to keep couples together. Alice, Rose, and Maggie were Sarah's bride's maids. Bart, dressed as Sir Benjamin's squire, would serve as the ring bearer.

Of course, her beloved Papa would escort her down the aisle and give her away. He made no secret of how proud he was of his little girl and, according to her mother, he had been beaming since their arrival in Ireland.

"A lighthouse shining at full power on a dark stormy night couldn't compare to the radiance of your father's smile," her mother told her as they had entered the castle earlier that morning.

"How's my girl?" The pleasant tolling of cathedral bell drew her from her thoughts. She had been too distracted to notice her father enter the room.

"Nervous," she answered honestly.

He was beside her now, his strong reassuring hand gently patting her shoulder. She stepped into him for an embrace but, to her confusion, her father backed away.

"Papa?" Sarah felt the confused expression twist her face.

"Now, don't take it the wrong way, Kitten," he soothed. "Believe me, I'm overjoyed and want nothing better than to hug you, but Alice would have my head if I rumpled your dress, ruined your hair, or smudged you perfect makeup."

Sarah found herself giggling, it was true. Alice and her sisters spent half the day working on her. Not that she really needed it, according to Bella she was naturally beautiful, but everything for this day had to be just right.

Her dress had arrived by Fed Ex at their home two days before New Year's. She had tried it on, but only after Ben left to go back to New York. Alice and her sisters insisted it was bad luck for the groom to see her in it before the big day.

Before trying it on, Alice had insisted she shape-shift to take a look. Sarah was shocked at how stunning the dress was, it was everything she wanted, and more. Even in lion form, it made her jaw drop. There wasn't a more gorgeous wedding dress on the planet.

The entire gown was made of white satin, embroidered with a delicate leaf and vine pattern in fine gold thread. The satin layer was overlaid with a layer of off-white antique Irish lace, and beaded with Austrian crystals and freshwater pearls.

The bodice style top of the gown had a squared yoke, trimmed in gold lace with a pearl and crystal medallion set into the center of it. It dipped just enough in front to reveal the blush of her cleavage. It exposed more skin than she was accustomed to showing, but her mother had insisted that it would still be considered modest.

The long sleeves puffed out at the shoulders then narrowed to fitted elegance. The outer side of the sleeves tied closed with gold lacing that matched the lacing on the back of the bodice. The full lace cuffs of the sleeves nearly swallowed her hands, leaving only the ends of her fingers showing.

The whole thing flowed into the most amazing billowy satin and lace skirt ever. It looked like something straight out of the pages of a King Arthur story, and wearing it now made Sarah feel like the Lady Guinevere.

Alice topped off the ensemble with a solid gold, pearl encrusted crown that arrived all the way from Volterra by special courier. It was a gift, she was told, from Aro and his wife, and it was accompanied by a letter apologizing for their not being able to attend the ceremony. Supposedly, the extravagant bauble had once belonged to none other than Marie Antoinette.

While the crown was priceless, Sarah was sure the dress cost a small fortune but when she asked Alice about it, her sister refused to divulge the exact amount.

"Don't worry about the expenditure, it's Papa approved," her impish sister dismissed casually. "Besides it will be well worth every penny when you walk down the aisle in all your resplendent glory."

Not to be out done, Benjamin was decked out in splendor as well. His wardrobe consisted of a fine linen tunic and dark pants over which he wore a surcoat made of rich fabric in his family colors and bearing his family crest. A simple gold circlet ringed his noble head.

Soft knee-high boots, a set of silver-studded bracers, and his best dress sword belt and belt purse rounded out his outfit. The sword's scabbard would hang empty from his belt during the ceremony as it was sacrilege, according to Ben, to bring objects of violence onto holy ground. He would retrieve the blade later for picture taking and to wear during the reception.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Her father's voice pulled her once again from her thoughts.

"Oh, sorry," she sniffled. Though she couldn't really cry she found herself all choked up and sniffly. "I don't know what's wrong with me today."

Her father laughed warmly. "In my expert medical opinion, I'd say that in the face of your pending nuptials you're suffering from a bad case of Blushing Bride's Syndrome."

"That sounds serious, Doctor," she faked a startled gasp. The bells tolled merrily again.

"Hardly, it simply means your emotions are stretched tighter than the strings on a minstrel's lute," he soothed when his laughter ceased. "Try to relax honey; everything's going to be just fine."

"How do I look?" She wanted her father's opinion.

"Radiant," he informed her, "a vision of celestial glory."

"No wonder Mama married you . . . you're a silver-tongued charmer just like Ben."

Her father laughed, "I do try."

"Speaking of Ben, have you seen him?" her thoughts suddenly wandered to the love of her life and she couldn't contain her grin. "How is he?"

"I popped into his dressing area briefly. He's just as nervous as you are, but you're handling it far better that he is . . . it's taking everything Jasper's got to keep him half way settled."

Poor Ben she thought.

"The only one in the men's camp that seems to be enjoying things is Bartholomew," her father continued. "It seems last night Benjamin and his groomsmen took the boy to the ruins of an old castle and conducted an ancient squiring ceremony for Bart. He really is, according to Ben, a squire of the Knightly Order of St. John."

"Seriously?" she was a little surprised, but she supposed she shouldn't be, Bart and his dad had a very special bond. When she asked where they were going when they left the hotel last night, Ben only answered 'out to do guy stuff'.

"Well I think . . ." her father began, but Alice interrupted him.

"Come on you two, it time to go down to the vestibule," Alice insisted. Then Sarah heard her sister scurry off towards the chapel.

"Shall we?"Papa asked. The air stirred suddenly, and the image of her father offering his elbow to her flared in golden brilliance against the blackness. It was a sight she would never forget. Though her sound vision was a bit grainy and didn't produce images in color, her father looked very fetching in his wealthy nobleman's attire.

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her. When they reached the staging area outside the chapel's main doors, a sudden wave of nerves surged through her and she nearly tripped over the edge of a rug.

"Careful," her father murmured as he caught her. Sarah found it more embarrassing than anything else; vampires weren't supposed to trip over things.

"Is she ok?" the twittering flutes of her mother's voice were full of concern.

"She's fine," her father soothed. "It's just nerves . . . you remember, don't you my love?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Carlisle Cullen. I wasn't the least bit nervous on our wedding day."

She heard her father chuckle knowingly, but he said nothing.

"Wow, Mom, you look beautiful!" Bart exclaimed as he came towards them. "Grandpa, what are you going to do if Dad sees how pretty Mom is and falls out on the floor?"

The rich sound of her father's laughter filled the air and Sarah relaxed at the sound of it. "I assure you, my boy, that won't happen. As a general rule, Dragons don't pass out. However, should that happen, a good doctor is always prepared."

"I want to be a doctor too, Grandpa, just like you." The music from the chapel changed and Bart took in a startled breath. "That's our cue Grandma, let go find Aunty Jane so I can escort you two into the church."

Sarah smiled as she listened to them leave. Jane, of the Volturi, had agreed to act as Ben's proxy mother for the service. She would sit in the family section on the groom's side and light the groom's candle which Ben would then use during the lighting of unity candle.

"Hey, looking _good,_ Sis," Emmett shouted from down the hall. His words were followed by a painful whimper as Rose jabbed him in the side with her elbow. "What was that for?" her brother complained.

"For acting like a cretin," Rose snapped back. "This is Sarah's big day, at least try to be civilized. I know it's a stretch Em, but I'm sure if you reach deep you can pull it off."

"I love you too Rose," Emmett replied sarcastically.

"Children, please," her father corrected as he cleared his throat, "remember your pacing when the music starts. Not too fast, this should be a stately affair."

"We know." they sang in unison.

Sarah smiled; each one of them had experienced for themselves exactly what she was going through now. The Cullen family had loads of practice with weddings . . . they had it down to a science.

Sarah could hear muffled strains wafting through the closed chapel doors and she tensed. Papa patted the back of her hand gently. "Just relax, it's going to be perfect Sarah, just like it should be," he whispered for only her ears.

The massive wooden double doors that dated from the late 1400s creaked and groaned in protest as they were opened. Suddenly music filled the vestibule as the chamber group from Dublin played Wagner's _Wedding March_. Her stomach turned flips, it was really about to happen . . . she was about to marry Benjamin and finally have her happily ever after. She was actually going to cheat the angry universe, and that thought made her tremble with pent up emotion.

"Easy, Kitten, distract yourself. Let your mind wander, try thinking about something else," her father whispered as they took a couple of steps forward. Edward and Bella were halfway up the central aisle now and Rose and Emmett had just begun their slow procession.

She forced her thoughts elsewhere, to the decorations in the chapel. It was a stunning sight; Sarah had phased and snuck in to see them after the rehearsal last night. There were candles everywhere, hundreds of them all in white. She could only imagine what they would look like when they were all lit. Great swags of English Ivy laced with white satin ribbon, Queen Ann's Lace, Lily of the Valley, and antique pink and white roses draped gracefully from every imaginable place. It smelled just as heavenly as it looked.

From the massive beams of the high vaulted ceiling, beautiful banners fluttered.

Over the bride's side the glorious pennants of sable and argent, the colors of the house of Cullen made her heart swell with pride. The banners bore the Cullen family crest, the same one that graced the medallion on her cane: a lion with a hand over its head and below its feet, a down-turned chevron bearing three clovers, all delicately embroidered in finest silver thread on an ebony field.

Above the groom's side, banners of sanguine and azure, the livery of the house of de Monte Virun, hung in stately splendor. The flowing columns of fabric were by-colored, split in two down the center, the right half deep maroon red and the left half a beautiful Windsor blue. The sanguine half bore the image of a golden griffin rampant, its wings spread and its beak open. The azure half bore three Maltese crosses lined vertically, one above the other. The top and bottom crosses were slightly smaller and embroidered in black, the middle one was larger and in silver.

To the right of the massive high altar, just behind the unity candle, another banner hung and this one was emblazoned with the de Monte Virun family motto_: __Pour un cœur_ _vaillant, rien est impossible_, which translated to: _To a valiant heart, nothing_ _is impossible_.

She felt her emotion swell anew and she wanted, more than anything, to sob with unbridled joy. Papa must have sensed this and he patted her arm lightly as he shushed her.

"Our turn is coming next," he whispered. "Do try to smile, Kitten, no one likes a sobbing bride . . . even when they are sobs of joy." Understanding and love played through the bells of her father's voice. She felt him take a step, but she hesitated. "Just relax and follow my lead, Sarah, I'll give you all your cues and I won't let you stumble."

As she stepped into the chapel, a painful wave of electricity played across her skin, with so many _Red Dragons_ in one place, she wasn't surprised. It seemed anyone who was anyone in the Vampire Nation was in attendance at her wedding. Some of them she knew, but most were acquaintances of Ben, her father, or her siblings.

There were human guests as well; some of the staff from the hospital had come, Jacob and some of the Quileute, as well as a number of Ben's more select clients. Bella's birthfather, Charlie, and his new wife, as well as her birthmother, Renee, and her husband Phil, all flew in together. It seemed a strange yet comfortable mix; human, vampire, and shape-shifter all gathered together under one roof to celebrate love and unity.

Three pews from the front her father stopped, took a step back, and eased her to the left. Sarah took a couple of steps until she found herself embraced by her mother. They exchanged kisses and Sarah gave her mother a single red rose. She backed out of the aisle and Papa helped her to her right where she met Jane for a similar exchange.

"Congrats," the captain of the Volturi guard whispered as she kissed Sarah's cheek. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, I truly mean that."

Her Papa helped her make it the rest of the way to the front of the church. Then he handed her over to her waiting beloved.

"Have a care with her Benjamin; she shall never cease to be my little girl," Papa warned softly, a faint growl rumbled through the words. Then he kissed her cheek before turning to walk back and take his place beside her mother.

After some rather longwinded opening remarks, Father O'Connor finally got to the question that filled her with pride, even as it made her stomach do cartwheels.

"Who giveth this woman in marriage to this man?"

She heard both of her parents stand to their feet. Papa answered the priest in a clear strong voice that overflowed with joy. "Her mother and I do."

Sarah couldn't help her exuberant grin.

As the priest continued to prattle on, Ben sighed and whispered to her. "I am truly the most blessed man alive, from this day hence, I will look upon that radiant smile of yours as routinely as I do the rising and setting sun. From now until time ceases its eternal march I will know the pleasure of you beautiful countenance."

Thought she knew it was impossible, Sarah felt a sensation she would have once called a blush rise within her. She dropped her head to hide her ever broadening grin.

"Milord," she whispered, "such compliments!"

"You are well-deserving of _such compliments_, Milady," came his answering whisper. "Get used to them now, as I shall be gracing you with them as often as the muses whisper them into my vast mind."

"And how often would that be, Milord?"

"I should think, as often as mine eyes cast upon thee, Milady."

Father O'Connor cleared his throat discreetly, drawing them back to the present.

"Benjamin Wiseman de Monte Virun, dost thou take this fair and gentle woman to be thine wedded wife?

"I do Father."

"Sarah Annaëlle Cullen, dost thou take this goodly and Godly man to be thine wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Does the groom have a ring with which to seal his most sacred oath?" Father asked boldly.

There was the sound of footsteps as Bart brought forth the pillow bearing the rings. She listened as Edward fumbled with them briefly before handing them to the priest.

"I hold here two gold rings," the priest intoned reverently. "Finely crafted, they symbolize the purity of the unending bond between two hearts, two lives, and two souls into one eternal and harmonious union. All the gold under heaven, wrought by the hand of God at the moment the world was created, is still in existence today. May almighty God bless these rings and this couple and may He show His favor upon this union. Whatsoever the hand of God makes, the hand of man cannot destroy. And so let it be with these rings and this marriage.

"Benjamin, would thou place the ring on Sarah's left ring finger, and repeat after me?"

She offered Ben her left hand; the butterflies in her stomach did a loop-the-loop when he took it gently in his. When she felt the ring slide onto her finger she nearly shouted, it took all her control to remain quiet.

"Deep breaths, Sarah," she heard her mother whisper soft encouragement. Her focus had been so exclusive that, for a moment, she'd forgotten anyone but her, Ben, and the priest existed.

Ben repeated after the priest, speaking clearly and passionately his half of the words that would forever bind them. Then it was her turn, her hand shook as she slipped the ring on Ben's finger.

"Steady, Little Love," Ben whispered imperceptibly.

She fought down her nerves and repeated her vows with just as much clarity and passion as her mate had.

When her words stopped echoing through the vast chapel, the music began. As Ben led her to the right, towards the small table and the unity candle, Siobhan began singing. The woman's voice was so absolutely enthralling, it could have brought the whole host of Heaven, itself, to tears.

Sarah had never heard the Irish Wedding Song before and when her aunty got to the line:_ 'And all we who love them just want to say, May God bless this couple who marry today,' s_he nearly lost her emotional control.A gentle squeeze of the arm from Ben helped her rein herself back in. Though it was beautiful and inspiring, she tried not to focus too much on the song's lyrics after that.

When the candle ceremony was over, the group from Dublin performed while they did the signing of the papers. Discreetly, Alice guided her hand as she shakily signed her name. Edward and Bella, Charlie and Renee, and Jacob and Nessie signed as witnesses.

This was followed by a beautifully sung rendition of _The Lord's Prayer_ in Gaelic. The soloist with the Dublin group has an exquisite voice and the song was haunting in its beauty.

The music faded and the chapel got quiet as everyone returned to their places. Father O'Connor launched into his closing remarks, giving Sarah a chance to catch her emotional breath . . . or so she thought.

"Forasmuch as Benjamin and Sarah have consented together in holy wedlock, and have consented the same before God and this company, and thereto have pledged their troth each to the other, and have declared the same by the giving and receiving of rings, and by the joining of hands; I pronounce therefore that they be Man and Wife together.

"Young man, thou may salute thy bride."

Suddenly she was in Ben's arms and his lips instantly found hers. They had exchanged kisses before, passionate ones that left her breathless, weak, and wanting more, but nothing had prepared her for this. It was explosive and full of need, hers as well as his. It was possessive; no man under heaven would ever kiss her this way because she belonged to Benjamin alone. It was filled with the most complete and tender love imaginable, today they had exchanged something else along with the words and the rings . . . they exchanged hearts and souls.

Finally, after a few not so subtle hints from the Father, they came up for air. When they did, the priest had them turn and face the room, hand in hand.

"Ladies and gentleman, it is my privilege and my pleasure to introduce, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wiseman de Monte Virun. What Almighty God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

The newlyweds exited the chapel together, arm in arm, to the thunderous applause of the assembled company.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** I put a link to the wedding dresson my profile page. I hope it works. You can find the _Irish Wedding Song_ and _Cannon in D Major_ on Playlist too, but the wedding song is sung by a man.

I hope the wedding was worth the wait for you guys. It took me forever to write it.

Next chapter, the reception.

**Footnote #2:** A lesson in heraldry. (Because Blue couldn't resist, sorry.)

Elements of the Cullen family crest and their meaning:

_Black (sable) = consistency of grief _

_Silver/white (argent) = peace and sincerity_

_Chevron= protection, the accomplishment of some work of faithful service (I'm sure the fact that the chevron is down pointing has some significance, but I don't know what it is.)_

_Hand= pledge of faith, sincerity, and justice._

_Lion= dauntless courage_

_Shamrocks= perpetuity (eternity)_

Elements of the de Monte Virun family crest and their meaning:

_Sanguine (a deep maroon red) = Patience__in battle, and yet victorious_

_Azure (blue of any hue) = Truth__and loyalty_

_Griffin rampant =Valor and death-defying bravery; vigilance_

_Three Maltese crosses in black and silver = three is the number of completion also symbolic of the trinity. The Maltese cross means blessing and is the badge of the Knight's Hospitalier_

All information on heraldry comes from the _Fleur-de-lis Designs_ web site.


	41. Chapter 41

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters

Chapter 40

**Lord Benjamin and Lady Sarah**

**____________________________________________________________________________________________________**

_There was a great horn which hung upon a sycamore tree, and by this horn was the Red Knight summoned to meet those who would do battle with him. And these had been many, for their shields decorated innumerable trees. It was the Red Knight's custom to hang the shields of those brave knights who he vanquished upon the trees all around the castle. _

_Now did the knight Sir Beaumains ride up and blow the horn, and he sounded it right lustily, and he sounded it at noontide when the strength of the Red Knight of the Reed Lands was at its greatest. _

_Then came the Red Knight riding down upon him .There was fire that flew from his eyes, red fire, and his horse was blood-red, and his armor, and his spear, and so was his shield. _

_And they met in a little valley that was near to the castle, so that all might behold the encounter. _

_Now it just happened that the Lady Lyones looked out of the window, and she was wondrous fair, and gentler than her sister. Then she beheld the knight Sir Beaumains, who fought the Red Knight with his spear, giving him mighty blows; and she thought she had never beheld so goodly a knight_

_They fought until it was late in the day, and all were astonished, for there was never a knight who had so long withstood the Red Knight of the Reed Lands . . ._

_Agnes Grozier Herbertson_

_**Sir Beaumains the Kitchen Knight**_

**__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

They spent what seemed like hours taking pictures. While the rest of the guests made their way to the grounds behind the castle, Sarah and the wedding party met Mr. Dorsey, a photographer friend of Liam's, in the castle's rose garden.

They made pictures with Sarah and her bridesmaids, Ben and his groomsmen, and the whole party together. Then there were the more intimate shots; just Ben and Sarah, Ben and Sarah and Bart, Sarah and her parents, Sarah alone with each of her sibling pairs, and Ben, Sarah, Bart, and her parents. It seemed they must have taken a million pictures.

Mr. Dorsey said he'd never seen a more beautiful couple and as a wedding present he was going to blow up one of the shots of Sarah, Ben and Bart to 18x24 and have it framed and shipped to them. The rest he would upload and email to Ben and they could select what they wanted to print.

With the picture-taking over, every one changed into more comfortable clothing. Sarah and Ben as well as her parents were still in period dress, but it was more casual. Sarah now wore a soft cotton one piece dress in the loveliest shade of lilac. According to Bella, Ben had changed in to a billowing white poet's shirt over which he wore a black leather jerkin, black pants and knee high leather boots complete with gold spurs. At his side he wore his sword, the same one he wore into battle as a Knight.

The reception was even more fantastic than the wedding, if that were possible. It was like having a private party at the Renaissance Fair. There was plenty of food and drink for their human guests. There was plenty of entertainment too, wandering minstrels, acrobats, story tellers, fire eaters, and even a real gypsy fortuneteller. Sarah knew the woman had nothing on Alice.

"Would the bride and her father please step out onto the dance floor?" The lead singer from the Dublin group announced over the loud speaker. A knot formed in her stomach . . . Alice had never mentioned dancing and no one had taught her how, well, except for that bit of goofing off she and Ben had engaged in at New Year's.

"Come on, Kitten," her father whispered as he took her elbow, "they're waiting for us."

"Papa, I can't dance," she pleaded.

"Oh stop it, you sound like Bella," his voice tolled merrily. "Just follow my lead and my instructions and you'll do fine."

Once on the floor, he placed her left hand on his shoulder and took her right hand in his left. When the music started he whispered the steps to her. Before the waltz by Chopin was half over, she had the steps memorized.

"Would the Groom please join his Bride for their first dance as husband and wife?"

Papa gave her a peck on the cheek before handing her off to Ben.

"Wait here," Ben whispered to her. Then he turned and walked towards the bandstand. She listened to the hushed conversation and then she heard him turn and walk back toward her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked softly.

"No, I made a request," he told her as she listened to the band murmuring in her periphery. "Do you remember that dance I taught you at New Year's?"

"The one you said you learned at the court of King Louis XVI?" She nodded, "of course, but I'm no good at it."

"Yes you are," Ben encouraged. "And I've asked the band to play something slow."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm pleased to present the bride and groom, Lord Benjamin and Lady Sarah, dancing a period reel to _Jock_ _O' Hazeldean."_

The music started and Sarah curtsied to Ben before extending her right hand to him. He took her hand lightly in his and they began the slow precise set of steps timed the beat of the music. In and out, circle two steps left and two to the right again, curtsy and then repeat in the opposite direction. It felt like a scene out of _Kate and_ _Leopold._

Halfway through the dance, her mother and father and Edward and Bella joined them on the floor. Ben called a partner change and Sarah turned to her right and found herself dancing with her father. She smiled.

"I didn't know you could dance like this," she said as she curtsied to him.

"Of course, Kitten," he replied with a chuckle. "When I was a youth, this is how people danced . . . nothing like the wild gyrating frenzies you young people engage in today. It's absolutely hedonistic if you ask me, this is much more refined and elegant."

She couldn't help her laugh.

After the dance there was the cutting of the cake. They used Ben's broad sword to do the honors and then, just for the photographer's sake, fed each other a couple of bites. Ben would have to cough it up later but, by some odd twist of her transformation, she wouldn't. She would, however, pay the price . . . hiccups.

For some time after that, they mingled with their guests, stopping to talk and receive well wishes. Jane approached them at one point and gave them her cell phone. Aro and Sulpicia were on the other end of the line, offering them the _royal_ blessing and hopes for a happy life together.

Finally, at near dusk, a thunderous voice boomed over the loud speaker. "Oh-yeah, Oh-yeah, hearken unto to me and let every goodly ear hear! By decree of their sovereign majesties Lord Benjamin and Lady Sarah, a Tournament of Arms shall be held this evening in celebration of the Lord and Lady's nuptials.

"Gather ye now in the grandstands around the lists and watch the brave and noble Knights engage in mortal combat. I warn ye now though, 'tis not a sight for the faint of heart . . . there will be the clashing of cold steel, there will be broken bones, and there . . . will . . . be . . . _blood_!"

Sarah sucked in a startled breath even as excited shouts rose up around her; blood could be a bad thing, considering their present company. In her mind she pictured several dozen vampires suddenly leaping on some poor helpless human in front of a live audience. It would be disastrous.

"Don't worry," Ben soothed as he led her toward the lists. "They're re-enactors; they practice their craft all the time, probably more often than I did when I was a Knight."

Sarah and Ben were seated in the royal box along with Bart, her parents, Jane, and the rest of the wedding party. When everyone was settled the man with the thunderous voice introduced himself.

"My Liege, Milady, and honored guests. I am Sir Godfrey of Orin and I will be serving as Master-at-Arms for tonight's event." He paused and Sarah presumed he bowed. "Might I have the royal blessing to proceed?"

"By all means, Sir Godfrey, please do," Ben answered in a regal tone.

Sir Godfrey then introduced the seven valiant Knights who would be competing in the evening's tournament. After the introductions the Master-at-Arms turned to Sarah and spoke.

"Milady, it is customary that the Lord's wife select a champion to carry her favor during the tournament." He was beside her chair now and she caught a glimpse, as the wind stirred, of him offering her his hand. She took it and stood.

"What thinks Milord, a fare better judge of warriors are thee than I?" she asked Ben, the words tumbled with ease from her lips.

"Someone's been indulging in too much Shakespeare," Ben murmured softly for only her to hear, then in a louder tone he answered. "A fine lot one and all, Milady, thou will be most pleased with whomever thy choose."

She wanted to growl but restrained herself. "Sir Godfrey, knowing these fighting men well, as thou must, does one stand out from his brethren?"

"Thy lord husband is right, Milady, all are stout of heart and skilled of hand," he replied, paused, and then added, "but might I humbly offer Sir Reginald San Sebastian, he's quite . . ."

"Select me, Milady," a young voice called from the lists below. "I'll not disgrace thy favor nor let it fall. Sir Reginald is past his prime, his horse shows more heart in battle than he does. Thou will find none nobler to set astride a steed and carry a sword this night than I."

Sarah was stunned; she wasn't sure what to do. "Who addresses me, Sir Godfrey?"

"That would be Sir Ivan of York, Milady," Sir Godfrey sounded completely disgusted. "A spoiled knave who is a Knight only by virtue of his father's position. Alas he was my squire once and I did not do well by him . . . all too often I spared him the rod."

"What say you Sir Reginald?" Sarah was having fun getting into the act.

"I would consider it a great honor to carry thy favor, Milady," Sir Reginald replied in a gruff voice. "While beauty may come before age, wisdom comes before all. Do not be fooled by this young rogue, I am the veteran of many campaigns and I eat the likes of him for my breakfast. There is not a man here tonight more skilled at arms or braver in battle than I."

Behind her she heard Ben chuckle. _"Could you take him?"_ she sent playfully to him.

"In a heartbeat," he whispered. "I know moves they've never even dreamed of."

After a moment more she made up her mind. "Would thou come forward Sir . . . Ivan, and do the honor of bearing my favor this night?"

"I would indeed, Milady." She listened as he urged his horse forward and then pulled the animal to a stop in front of her. "I will not disappoint thee."

"See to it, Sir Knight, that thou does not. I should hate to taste the bitter gall of disappointment in my joyful cup on this, mine wedding day." Then she handed her handkerchief to Sir Godfrey. "Would thou do the honors, master Knight, my . . . affliction, makes it difficult."

"Most certainly, Milady," he answered and took the kerchief from her.

Sarah returned to her seat and the tournament began. First the Knights displayed their horsemanship skills by spearing rings with their lance and then they took on a series of fixed targets with their swords as they galloped past. The breeze stirred the night air enough to allow Sarah to catch most of the action with her grainy sound vision. All the knights were skilled riders.

Soon the sound of steel on steel filled the night air and the knights moved on to single, hand to hand, combat. An instant rivalry erupted between Sir Reginald and her champion, Sir Ivan. When the two of them faced each other in combat, Sarah gasped and stood to her feet when Reginald delivered a wicked blow to her champion's belly.

"Light of Heaven, you're really into this, aren't you?"Ben commented as he laughed softly and then pulled her back into her seat. "Relax, little love, he's not harmed . . . do you smell blood?" she shook her head and he added gently. "It's merely overly staged theatrics, sweetheart. Believe me, I could have killed both of them several times over by now. Their reactions are ridiculously slow, even for humans, and they leave themselves far too exposed."

"Can you teach me to do that, Dad?" Bart asked eagerly.

"I suppose I could arrange for riding lessons," her mate answered.

"No, Dad, I mean that . . . to fight like they are."

"Oh, you wish to learn the fine art of sword craft." Ben sounded thoughtful. "I suppose so, what sort of training master would I be if my squire didn't learn the art of handling a blade. When we return home, I'll have some wasters made."

The high point of the evening began shortly thereafter . . . the joust. Going into it, the score between Sir Reginald and Sir Ivan was tied. The Knights went against each other in pairs; losers were eliminated, winners advanced. In the end Reginald and Ivan faced each other in the final match.

After breaking two lances, Ivan unhorsed Reginald and the two went at each other on foot. Another steel clanging, shield shattering battle ensued. In the end Sarah's Champion was victorious and all was well in the kingdom.

All in all, Sarah found it very satisfying.

* * * *

It was late; the last of their guests had departed hours ago. Only Sarah's family remained on the grounds of the castle, talking and laughing amongst themselves. She listened as the company of re-enactors that had created medieval magic for her wedding day packed away their props and loaded their horses into vans. The day would be one she would never forget. Her sister Alice had done an outstanding job; her wedding was everything she had asked for and more.

She cuddled next to her new husband, his arm was draped possessively around her shoulders and he kissed her lightly behind the ear.

"Alice has one last surprise for us," he whispered as he nuzzled the spot he'd just kissed.

"Oh come on," Emmett groaned. "Yuck, get a room you two. Geese!"

"That's exactly what I had in mind," Ben responded in a contented voice as he lifted Sarah into his arms.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in the front of his tunic, if it were possible for vampires to blush she would have.

"Do try not to break anything," Alice warned as Ben carried her back toward the castle. "I'd like to get our deposit back."

"What's she talking about?" she whispered against his chest.

The deep rumbling of his laughter filled her ears. "Never mind, Little Love, they're only teasing us."

He carried her at human speed across the Grand Bailey. She listened to the soft swishing of the grass as it was trampled beneath her new husband's feet. When they reached the front steps of the castle, he climbed them without breaking stride. He readjusted her in his arms in order to get the door. In response she gripped him even tighter.

"Fear not, Milady," he shushed as he pulled the door open, "I'll not drop thee."

Sarah nuzzled his chest and giggled into the folds of his leather jerkin. She enjoyed burying her face there because she enjoyed his scent. He always smelled of gardenias and she found the fragrance pleasantly intoxicating. She inhaled deeply in the form of a discreet sigh, as he carried her up the castle's main staircase. The wooden risers creaked under their combined weigh at each step. No one would ever sneak up or down these stairs without being heard.

At the top of the stairs she felt him turn right, they were going down a corridor now. She could tell by the way his soft footsteps echoed in the closed narrow space. The stir of air as they moved illuminated things along the way, iron torches mounted on the walls, electric of course. Doors leading to rooms, what lay beyond them she didn't know. A bounty of paintings and tapestries hung from the walls, many of them reproductions, but most originals. All in all, your typical castle decor.

At the end of the hall Ben paused, shifted her in his arms, and fumbled with a door handle.

"Light of Heaven," she heard him growl impatiently. "What idiot locked the door? They knew we had this room reserved."

"Maybe if you put me down you could get the door open," she purred her suggestion. Ever since the time Cane carried her, bridal style, into her parents' abandoned house, she really preferred her own two feet.

"Oh no," he corrected her gently. "You are my new bride and the only place I'll be putting you down, Milady . . . is on the bed."

The last of his words sent a shiver of pleasure as well as a faint squirm of apprehension through her. Her thoughts had been so distracted with the wedding, she hadn't considered the honeymoon . . . or what would take place on their wedding night.

She heard something snap and the door opened easily.

"I guess we won't be getting our deposit back," Sarah teased. "Alice will be pissed."

Ben answered with a disgusted grunt as he closed the door behind them and then continued across the room. By the echo of his footsteps she could tell the room was huge. The stir of air as they moved wasn't enough to illuminate the room's interior against her black velvet vision.

"Describe the room to me," she asked as she snuggled against his chest, she was starting to feel nervous and needed distracting.

"If you keep that up," he answered as he deposited her on the edge of the cushiony bed, "I won't have the presence of mind to describe anything."

She felt herself smile.

"I'm not very good at this," he breathed as he settled beside her. "Hm, the room itself is about three times the size of a standard master bedroom. The bed, which we're sitting on, is at the far end opposite the door and it's on a raised platform so, do be careful if you decide to go wandering."

"I thought I felt you step up."

He pulled her into his embrace and she didn't protest. While she hated being carried, she loved being held. She loved it so much, in fact, that if he chose to hold her from now until time ceased she wouldn't complain. His arms made her feel safe and the desire for that feeling burned in her as hotly as her eternal thirst.

"On the wall to our right there is a massive fireplace, seriously it's huge; you could roast a pig in it. And several impressive tapestries hang on that wall as well."

"Will you make us a fire?"

"I don't think it's permitted, Little Love," he whispered against the skin at the nape of her neck. "Carlisle had to pull some serious strings for us to spend the night here. But fear not, if memory serves me, our new house has a fireplace in both the living room and the master bedroom."

The feel of his whispers against the skin at her nape made her shudder. She nearly gasped when he began kissing her there.

"What . . ." her voice betrayed her as she began to speak. When she was calmer she tried again. "What else is in the room?"

She heard him chuckle, he sounded very satisfied at the reaction he caused in her.

"Well, the wall to our left is lined with bookcases, about as high as I am tall. Above those," he was nuzzling her neck again but this time below her ear. "Above those there is a bank of lovely. . ." he trailed off as he planted a series of petal soft kisses from the collar of her cotton chemise all the way to her earlobe before finishing his sentence. "There is a bank of lovely stained glass windows."

"Ben?" the things his touch made her feel were new and wonderful, but also frightening. She stiffened as nervousness settled in.

"Yes, Little Love," he whispered as he continued his gentle advances. "Are my descriptions not adequate?"

"No, no. It's not that." She wasn't sure what to say. Nervousness was starting to give way to panic.

"Then what has my sweetling so anxious?" He pulled away slightly but still held her.

"Well . . . I uhm . . . well, I don't know . . ." she was fumbling for words even as they tumbled rapidly through the vastness of her mind. "I don't know . . . how to say this, but. . ."

"You're a virgin," he breathed softly against her ear. The words seemed to fall so easily from his mouth that it startled her. If she were human she would have blushed, perhaps even cried, but as she was, she could only nod.

"How did you know?" she stammered when she had her senses again.

He pulled her tighter into his embrace allowing her to rest her head in its favorite place against his chest.

"It's rather obvious, Little Love," he sighed, and then tenderly he added, "are you afraid? Please, don't feel ashamed if you are. While I assure you, you needn't fear, it's perfectly natural for a maiden to feel . . . apprehensive."

She couldn't find her voice right away so she nodded again.

"What about you?" she asked shyly when her voice returned. "I can't imagine that you would be, but are you . . . I mean, well, are you . . ."

"As a human, I had some experience in the art of love," he answered honestly. "In fact, I was very nearly married once . . . my mother arranged it, but I didn't love the girl, so I ran away."

"As a vampire?" she asked as she tried without success to repress a jealous growl.

Her reaction made Ben laugh, which caused her growl to grow even louder. In response, her mate kissed her on the cheek. Undoubtedly he found her annoyance amusing, but Sarah found it confusing. In that moment she felt the sudden urge to find this nameless girl and rip her to shreds, this in spite of the fact that the poor thing was five centuries dead and buried.

"As a vampire, I have lived a life of celibacy," he finally answered. He whispered the words against the skin of her neck, making her shudder. "For five hundred years I've waited," he kissed her shoulder. "Waited for _the one_," he kissed the crook of her neck. "Waited for my true mate," he kissed her neck. "Waited for you . . . Sarah," he kissed her just below her earlobe, right on top of the scar Cane left behind.

"It should have been my mark upon you," he whispered possessively before raking his teeth lightly across the scar. "I hope Cane rots in the deepest pit of hell for taking the pleasure of changing you away from me."

Electricity danced over her skin when his teeth touched the foul scar on her neck, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. In fact it was just the opposite, causing her to moan. When he kissed her there a second time, she suddenly found she couldn't breathe and coherent thought was next to impossible.

"Would you have changed me?" she finally asked when her mind could focus again. She was beginning to relax under his touch.

Ben took a long deep breath and let it out slowly. "That first day I set eyes on you in the hotel, when you came storming out of the bathroom in a fury thinking I was Cane, and laid into me like an angry tigress," he groaned and she felt him shiver with pleasure at the memory, "I would have claimed you with my venom then and there if your mother and sister hadn't been around."

She allowed that fantasy to play through her imagination. Ben's lips, not Cane's gently kissing the pulse point on her neck. Ben's teeth, not Cane's sinking into her tender flesh. Ben's mouth, not Cane's pouring venom into her frail human body and setting her ablaze from within. Ben's venom, not Cane's rewriting every single line of her genetic code. Ben, not Cane as her genesis, her creator . . . if only it could be.

"Hold me . . . please," she murmured sadly.

"Certainly, my Little Love," he whispered then he shushed her quiet as he took her into his lap and cradled her in his arms as if she were a small child. "I'll hold you forever and for always, Sarah, and I'll never _ever_ let you go."

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**Footnote:** The version of _Jock O'Hazeldean _that inspired Ben and Sarah's dance can be found on the album _Pye to Go_ by Mince Pye. It's very soft and sweet, and well . . . magical. To me, this version is now Sarah and Ben's song. Unfortunately, it's hard to find on the web, I had to buy the album from iTunes, but if you can find this version, check it out.

Yes, I've been to Medieval Times . . . for Mother's Day a few years back and I _LOVED IT_!!! I highly recommend it. I also go the Georgia Renaissance Festival almost every year and I love the jousting. I enjoy the Pirate Auction too; it's a good way to get cheap swords . . . if you're willing to _trust a pirate_.


	42. Chapter 42

**NoTe: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!**

**Epilogue:**

**Hope's Keep**

Their flight from Paris arrived in Seattle at just past eleven pm and the drive to the house took another two hours. It was half past two in the morning when Ben's Jaguar pulled off the highway and onto the long, winding drive that led to their new home. Knowing her father, Bart would be asleep by now, but her parents would be up. They had agreed to meet Sarah and Ben at the lighthouse. It would be good to see them again; while her honeymoon had been fantastic she had missed her home and family.

Ben brought the car to a stop and cut the engine. "Welcome home, my love," he whispered as he bent over and kissed her cheek. Seconds later he was opening the car door for her.

The night was still, only the sound of the gentle sea breeze and the waves crashing on the rocky shore below the distant cliff broke the silence. The whisper soft movement of the air was enough to illuminate the house in golden light against Sarah's black velvet vision. She took in a jagged breath, her mother had done an outstanding job with the renovations . . . the house was glorious.

Her hand was now on Ben's elbow as he led her toward the front steps and the wide front porch beyond them. Being from the south, Sarah loved porches. Her aunt's house back in Breaux Bridge had one that wrapped around two sides of the little white clap board structure. Papa's front porch had always been her favorite haunt, when she wasn't in her studio working on a project she could be found firmly planted in a rocking chair enjoying the air.

Suddenly she found herself being scooped into Ben's strong arms. He carried her up the front steps. The breeze picked up again and her vision blazed. There on the broad porch was her favorite rocker, transplanted from her parent's home to hers. If she were capable of tears, she would have shed an ocean of them. She would have to thank Mama and Papa for the thoughtful house warming gift.

The thought of her parents made her focus her hearing; except for her and Ben, there was no one for miles. Her mother and father and Bart were supposed to be here, suddenly she felt panic, where were they . . . was something wrong?

"Milady, are you alright?" Ben asked as she began trembling in his arms.

"Mama, Papa, and Bart are supposed to be here." Her panic was growing. "Something must be wrong. Maybe Bart's sick, we should call them."

Ben shushed her quiet as he carried her toward the front door. "Relax my little love, there's no cause for alarm. I called your folks from the airport in New York and told them to hold off on coming up until tomorrow. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I wanted to surprise you."

"But, why?" she was confused and she knew it showed.

Ben still held her and she could hear the deep rumble of his laughter where her ear was pressed against his chest. "Because, sweetling, I wanted some time alone with you in our new home before things got chaotic. I wanted time to really show it to you and enjoy your reaction to all its wonders." He kissed her forehead before continuing. "This is our castle, Milady, our sanctuary from the prying eyes of the bustling world. Behind these walls we can be who we really are . . . no pretences or pretending. It is our private piece of Heaven, Sarah . . . our Valinor, our Avalon."

He was right of course; she was dying to see it . . . the place they would call _home_, for all time. Her mother hadn't let her near the place after she started the renovations . . . in spite of Sarah's begging. Her last memory of the poor old lighthouse was that of a lonely decrepit structure in need of copious amounts of TLC. She couldn't wait to get a look at what her mother had done with the place.

Ben unlocked the front door, carried her across the threshold, and set her down gently in the foyer. The first thing she noticed was the clatter of her own footsteps on the hardwood floors, no carpeting. She smiled with satisfaction, Sarah hated carpet.

As they continued through the house Ben gave detailed descriptions of each room, he was an outstanding tour guide. Later, when she had time to herself, she would phase and wander her new palace and see the sights with her own eyes. For now, however, she was contented to view it vicariously through her mate's eyes. His enthusiasm made her smile as a wave of warmth and tenderness washed through her.

Her mother had furnished their new home with period reproductions as well as adding modern conveniences. For example, a plasma screen TV hung in the living room, over the fireplace. According to Ben, it was disguised as a painting by Monet. In the kitchen; the stove was a reproduction cast iron Victorian model but fitted to be electric and the refrigerator was made to look like an old fashioned ice box. Throughout the house things like the lights, the thermostat, the sound system and the alarm were linked to a computer and responded to voice commands.

The tour proceeded up stairs where Ben showed her the library; Edward had acquired a large collection of classical works for her in Braille as well as books on CD. Bart's room was down the hall from the library, two guest rooms and a full bathroom were that way as well. At the other end of the hall was the master suite.

Their bedroom was large and airy with windows on three walls, one of which faced the ocean. The room was furnished with antiques that her mother had made a special trip to New Orleans to purchase, the center piece of which was a king sized four poster mahogany rice bed. Their oasis had its own bathroom as well, which was only important because her mother had insisted on installing a huge claw footed bathtub big enough for two people; this was in addition to a glass enclosed double shower.

Finally, Ben led her up a winding set of wrought iron stairs that took them to the top of the light tower. In the lamp room, he explained that Esme was still working on things up here.

"Replacement parts for an original fourth order Fresnel lens and whale oil lamp are hard to come by." He told her. "Your mother hopes to acquire them in time; it's a labor of love now."

"Can we go out on the balcony?" she asked.

"Of course." He opened the little door and took her out onto the narrow balcony that ran around the outside of the lamp room.

Sarah turned her face into the wind and inhaled the sweet salty air. In the distance, the waves thundered against the rocky shore and further off, much further off, in the distance a storm brewed over the open ocean.

The wind played over her face making wayward strands of her dark hair dance across her face. The air currents also made her sound vision blaze into life, the open meadow beyond the back of the house that stretched out to end abruptly at the edge of the cliff, the evergreen trees the stood to the right of the house defying the storms that pummeled them, even the sea itself in all its raging glory flared against her black velvet world.

It was all so beautiful and wonderful. A home, a husband, and a son, for the first time in a long time Sarah was getting things instead of watching the angry universe take them away from her. For once she had managed to cheat the gaping black maw that devoured her old life, her human life, and left her hopeless and empty inside.

A smile slowly spread across her face as she thought about their new home. Just like Sarah, their beautiful lady of light was a survivor; she'd sat out here all alone on this desolate stretch of shore line and withstood wind and weather. The old girl needed something . . . a bit of personality.

"Our kingdom and our castle should have a name then, Milord," Sarah suggested as she continued to smile.

"Alice said you'd want to name the place," he murmured as he wrapped a protective arm around her. "I suppose, eventually, I will come to trust your sister's second sight. What shall it be then, Milady?"

A thousand names danced through her head at once but none of them seemed right. _'This is our castle . . . our sanctuary. . .'_ Ben's word echoed through her mind over and over again. Then she thought of how hopeless and empty she'd once felt when she was all alone in the world and how happy and full of hope she was now that she had a wonderful family. Finally a name came to her.

"Hope's Keep," she whispered so faintly that she was sure the breeze stole the words away and carried them off into the night.

"A fairer name never existed, Milady," Ben sighed and then he kissed her lightly on the cheek. When he spoke again, her mate's voice was as fierce as a gale and it vibrated off every surface for miles "From this day hence let this place and this castle be known as _Hope's Keep_. May Almighty God bless and protect this land and this dwelling place and those who call this place their home . . . from now until time is no more."

* * * *

_**The End**_ . . . is only the beginning, especially if you're a sparkly vampire.

Until next time,

Blue

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**A note to you all:**

Thanks to everyone for giving me a measure of your time and for all your wonderful reviews. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writig it.

A huge thank you goes out to my outstanding Beta, Karen, who patiently edited each chapter before posting to make sure it was perfect.

Will there be a third story? I don't know yet, maybe, I do have some other tings in mind. We'll just have to see.

My Love to all of you,

Blueroan


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